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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0508ca0 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #68694 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/68694) diff --git a/old/68694-0.txt b/old/68694-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 494dc22..0000000 --- a/old/68694-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,7770 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Roger the ranger, by Eliza Fanny -Pollard - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Roger the ranger - A story of border life among the Indians - -Author: Eliza Fanny Pollard - -Release Date: August 5, 2022 [eBook #68694] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Roger Frank, Al Haines and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROGER THE RANGER *** - - - - - -ROGER THE RANGER - - - - -[Illustration: “HE THREW THE WHOLE WEIGHT OF HIS BODY UPON ME AND STRUCK ME -DOWN.”] - - - - - -ROGER THE RANGER - -A STORY OF BORDER LIFE AMONG THE INDIANS - -BY E. F. POLLARD - -AUTHOR OF “THE GREEN MOUNTAIN BOYS,” “TRUE UNTO DEATH,” ETC. - -Publishers--PARTRIDGE--London - -MADE IN GREAT BRITAIN - - - - - -CONTENTS - I. ESAU - II. PARTED - III. BAD NEWS - IV. “MY OWN FAMILIAR FRIEND!” - V. A HERO - VI. A BRAVE HEART - VII. THROUGH STORM AND TEMPEST - VIII. BY LAND - IX. TRUE MEN - X. A NEW FRIENDSHIP - XI. DIPLOMACY - XII. A TERRIBLE DISASTER - XIII. BRAVELY DONE - XIV. SILENT INFLUENCE - XV. LOST - XVI. FRIENDSHIPS - XVII. THROUGH THE FOREST - XVIII. NADJII - XIX. THE ATTACK - XX. “LIGHTEN OUR DARKNESS” - XXI. AT THE HELM - XXII. HOME NEWS - XXIII. A CONFESSION - XXIV. THE PRODIGAL - XXV. TO THE FORE - XXVI. THE CHILD - XXVII. TWO HEROES - XXVIII. AT LAST - XXIX. ON THE PLAINS OF ABRAHAM - XXX. THE VANQUISHED - XXXI. WEARY WAITING - XXXII. ON THE BATTLE-FIELD - XXXIII. A LONG JOURNEY - XXXIV. CONCLUSION - - - - -ROGER THE RANGER: - -A Story of Border Life among the Indians - - - - -CHAPTER I - -ESAU - - -“It is of no use, Father Nat; we have gone over the same ground again and -again. I shall never settle down as a New England farmer, and there are other -reasons why I should go forth from among you. Mother, you have Marcus; he will -stand you in good stead: he has almost reached man’s estate, and he is old for -his years; he will be a better son to you than I have ever been. Don’t, Loïs, -my darling;” and the speaker, a tall, handsome man of four- or -five-and-twenty, in the picturesque dress of the New England hunter, sought to -unclasp from round his neck the clinging hands of a young girl, down whose -face the tears were flowing fast. - -“You are my firstborn, and like Esau you are selling your birthright, and -surely even as he did you will lose the blessing,” exclaimed his mother, -wringing her hands. - -Martha Langlade was still a handsome woman, not yet fifty years of age, her -brow unwrinkled, no silver thread visible in the bands of her soft brown hair, -smoothed back under a snowy cap, round which was tied a broad black ribbon, -token of her widowhood. - -“Then even as Esau I shall be a great hunter before the Lord,” answered her -son. “I am not leaving you comfortless, mother; you have the children and Loïs -and Marcus;” and turning towards a youth standing beside Martha, he held out -his hand to him, saying, “Marcus, you must take my place.” - -“I am too young, Charles; think better of it and stay with us,” he replied. - -The young man’s features worked; there was a moment’s hesitation, then he -shook his head, stooped and kissed again his sister’s upturned face, and, -pushing her gently towards a grey-headed man who had stood a silent spectator -of the scene, said huskily,-- - -“Take care of her, take care of them all, Father Nat.” - -“A man has no right to shift his burdens upon other men’s shoulders. You will -live to rue this day, Charles Langlade,” was the stern answer. - -“I trust not,” said the young man; “but this I know, go forth I must! -Farewell, mother; farewell, Father Nat; farewell, all of you. If troubles -threaten you I will come to your aid. Farewell;” and turning away, he strode -rapidly across the greensward in front of the house, bounded over the paling, -and, dashing down the hill-side, entered the forest, and so disappeared. As -they lost sight of the tall lithe figure, fully accoutred in his hunting garb, -his blanket rolled round him, his gun and ammunition slung across his -shoulders, Martha and the two little girls who were clinging to her wept -aloud. - -“Don’t, mother dear,” said Loïs, throwing one arm round Martha’s neck and -kissing her. - -“Ah, Loïs, I never thought he’d do it--never! It is your poor father’s fault, -taking the lads amongst the heathen. I told him no good would come of it,” and -her sobs redoubled. - -Father Nat had kept silence since his last words to Charles Langlade; he -seemed oppressed with a weight of care. He had never really believed in the -oft-threatened desertion, and now the blow had fallen he was for the time -stunned; but he roused himself, gave vent to a long deep sigh, then, laying -his hand kindly on Martha’s arm, said,-- - -“It’s no use fretting; what is to be will be. Come, mother, be brave. Don’t ye -grieve over much; remember the little ones. We’ve done all we could to hold -him back. It seems almost as if the Spirit constrained him. And ye know it is -not well to fight against the will of God.” - -“The will of God!” exclaimed Martha angrily, wiping her eyes and checking her -sobs. “Call it rather the machinations of the Evil One! How can you dare say -it is the will of God that a son of mine, my eldest born, should choose to go -and live amongst those cannibals, forsaking his father’s house and taking to -himself a wife from amongst the idolaters? I never thought to hear you say -such a thing, Father Nat! I’m minded you’ll think differently when your Roger -goes off after him.” - -“My Roger will never do that,” said Father Nat. “I know the two lads love each -other dearly--it’s in the blood--as I loved your husband, and as it has ever -been from generation to generation, since the first Charles Langlade saved the -life of a Roger Boscowen from the Red Indians, and the two joining hands -established themselves together on this then waste land.” - -“That proves what I say,” answered Martha doggedly; “or would you sooner see -our homesteads burnt and ruin threatening us? Have you forgotten the prophecy -of the Indian woman, the first who died under the shelter of your ancestor’s -roof? ‘When Langlade and Boscowen part, then shall the land be riven.’” - -“Nay, nay,” said Nathaniel uneasily. “The lads will love each other still, -though they be parted; but Roger will never do as Charles has done--he will -never bring my grey hairs with sorrow to the grave. He is my only son.” - -“Tut, tut! What is to prevent him, if, as you say of Charles, it should happen -to be the ‘will of God’?” - -She spoke bitterly--such an unusual thing for Martha that Father Nat looked at -her with surprise, and Loïs exclaimed,-- - -“Oh, mother! surely you do not mean it!” and the girl’s fair face flushed and -her lips quivered. - -“I mean no harm,” said Martha; “but what more natural? They’ve been like -brothers all their lives.” - -“But because Charles has gone astray there is no need for Roger to do the -same,” said Loïs gently. “It was not kindly spoken, mother, and yet I know you -love Roger dearly.” - -“Ay, surely she does,” said Nat; “who better, save myself, and his dead -mother? Come, Martha woman, shake hands; we be too old friends to quarrel! -Making my heart sore will not heal yours.” - -“Forgive me, Nat,” said Martha, bursting into tears. “You are right, my heart -is very sore. He was such a bonnie boy; and to think I’ve lost him, for truly -it is worse than if he were dead!” - -“Nay, nay,” answered Father Nat; “while there is life there is hope. Cheer up, -mother; who knows? he may come back to us a better and a wiser man.” - -“God grant it!” said Martha tearfully, her eyes turning wistfully towards the -dark forest, which seemed to have swallowed up her son. - -“You’d best come and have supper with me, Martha,” said Father Nat. “It’s near -upon eight o’clock,” and he looked at the sky, crimson with the glow of the -setting sun. On one side lay the dark forest, and far away the long line of -hills encompassing the valley; a broad shining river flashed like a line of -silver through the plain, where nestled the two villages of East and West -Marsh. On the slope of a hill-side overlooking the whole country stood two -houses, built exactly alike, separated from each other originally by a light -garden fence, which in the course of years had changed into a thick shrubbery. -The “Marshwoods” they were called, and had been so named by the first Langlade -and Boscowen who had penetrated with a few followers across the borderland of -New England, far away from human habitations, and had struck root on this -virgin soil. No one had disputed the land with them, save the Red Indian. Log -huts had given place in time to these two homesteads, in front of one of which -the scene we have just described had taken place. - -Built of the great trees hewn down in the primeval forest, neither storm nor -tempest had done them injury. Time had rather beautified than marred their -outward seeming. The shingled roofs were thickly overgrown with greeny yellow -lichen; the woodwork of the dormer windows, carved balconies, and deep -projecting porches had grown dark with age, thus showing off to greater -advantage the wealth of creepers which clambered in luxurious profusion from -basement to roof. Great clusters of purple and white clematis mingled with the -crimson flowers of the dark-leaved pomegranate. Over the porches, stretching -up to the casement windows, as if courting soft maiden hands to gather them, -clusters of white and pink roses vied with each other in perfume and beauty. - -Both houses were so exactly alike! The same spirit seemed to have devised, the -same hand to have carried out the work, and yet the founders were of a -different people and a different race. - -The Langlades were descended from a certain Chevalier de Langlade who had -fought in the great wars under Turenne, and when the armies were disbanded the -then French Minister, Colbert, had bestowed upon his regiment, as a reward for -its services, all the lands lying on the shores of the great Lake of St. -Lawrence--“Canada,” as the Indians called it; “New France,” the colonists -baptised it, when as far back as 1535 a French explorer, Jacques Cartier, -ascended the St. Lawrence. - -In 1608 the brave and tender-hearted Samuel Champlain laid the foundations of -the City of Quebec, standing proudly on her rock overlooking land and sea. -France was then virtually mistress of North America, from Hudson’s Bay to the -Gulf of Mexico, by right of precedence. Therefore these warriors, when they -landed on the shores of the St. Lawrence, felt that they were not wholly -aliens from their beloved country, for which they had fought and bled. Ceasing -to be soldiers, they became great hunters. Most of them belonged to the -Reformed Church, and though Henry IV. had renounced his faith to become King -of France, he so far favoured his former co-religionists as to decree that New -France was to welcome the Calvinists, and that they were to be allowed to -worship after their own fashion; but Cardinal Richelieu, who by the Revocation -of the Edict of Nantes drove the Huguenots out of France, thus depriving her -of the most industrious of her population, extended his spirit of intolerance -even to New France, and decreed that the Calvinistic worship was no longer to -be tolerated there. The result was that many influential families left Canada, -seeking a new home. Amongst these was a Charles Langlade, with the young wife -he had but lately wedded. It was a perfect exodus, for he was much beloved and -had many followers. They went south, past the great Lake Champlain, into the -dense forests of the west. The Indians swarmed along their path, and daily, -hourly, the exiles were exposed to the danger of the tomahawks of the savages. - -One memorable day the French Canadians suddenly came upon a group of -Englishmen defending themselves as best they could against an overwhelming -number of redskins. Charles Langlade fired, at what proved to be the Indian -chief, as with raised arm he was in the act of bringing his tomahawk down on -the head of a tall, largely built man, whose rugged features and great -strength marked him out from his companions. This man was Roger Boscowen. -Their chief slain, the Indians fled. Then Charles Langlade and Roger Boscowen, -who had thus seemingly met by chance, joined hands, and a great and strong -affection grew up between them, so that they cast in their lots together. -Roger Boscowen had but lately landed upon the shores of New England; he too -had left his Lincolnshire fens, with other well-to-do, God-fearing yeomen, for -conscience’ sake, to find a country where they might glorify God. They were -not “broken men,”--adventurers or criminals driven from their fatherland by -earthly want,--but men who were constrained by their fear of God and their -zeal for godly worship. - -They had no dreams of gold-fields, but were resolute and industrious, quiet -and stern, recognising from the first that nothing was to be expected from the -land but by labour. So the representatives of the two races united, and -marched onward together along the wavy line of the New England border, until -they reached a spot which seemed to possess all the most essential -qualifications for a new colony. Forest land, deep hills and dales, pastures -sloping down to a broad shining river which watered all the land, lay -stretched out before them; and here they pitched their tents, and in time -multiplied and prospered, upholding from generation to generation the -characteristics of their Puritan and Huguenot forefathers--namely, piety and -simplicity of life. The “Marshes” had become one of the largest and most -prosperous of the border settlements. - -Thus it was that the Langlades and Boscowens were alike proud of their -descent, and strove ever to prove themselves worthy in all things of those who -had gone before and were called “Fathers of the land.” - -That an eldest son should have gone astray and have forsaken his ancestral -home was therefore a bitter sorrow. Alpha and Omega had been added to the name -of Marshwood to distinguish the homesteads. The Langlades owned Alpha, the -Boscowens Omega. As son succeeded father the tie which bound the heads of the -two houses together was never once broken; no word of dissension ever arose -between them. Younger sons and daughters went forth into the busy world; some -were lost sight of, others returned from time to time with a curious longing -to see once more the home of their race, and were made welcome and treated -hospitably; but, up to the present time, the eldest son of either branch had -never deserted his post. - -The present generation was less fortunate in their domestic relations than -their predecessors. Nathaniel Boscowen lost his wife when his only son Roger -was still a child, and Louis Langlade died in the prime of life from an -accident he met with while hunting. With his dying breath he commended his -wife and children to the care of his life-long companion and friend Nathaniel, -who became forthwith “Father Nat,” not only in the settlement, but amongst the -Indians, who came to barter the skins of wild beasts for English goods. He was -still a man in the prime of life, and he strove nobly to fulfil his charge; -but Louis Langlade himself had early inspired his son and Roger with a love -for hunting and the wild Indian life, and after a time Nat found it impossible -to exercise any control over Charles. He would disappear for days together, -and at last announced his intention of dwelling entirely with the Indians and -taking a wife from amongst them. - -Up to the very last no one believed he would really carry out the threat, and -when he did the blow, as we have seen, fell heavily upon them all. - -In answer to Father Nat’s invitation to supper, Martha said,-- - -“Yes, I shall be glad to come; at least I shall not see his empty chair at my -own table. Come, children; we will go and see after the men’s supper, and then -betake ourselves to Omega Marsh.” - -Marcus followed his mother, and so Nathaniel and Loïs were left standing alone -in the porch. For a time they both kept silence; suddenly Father Nat asked,-- - -“Do you know where Roger is, Loïs? He has been absent since dawn.” - -“No, I do not,” she answered. “But he will come home; have no fear, Father -Nat,” and she turned her young face towards him, bright, notwithstanding the -shadow resting on lips and brow. She was barely eighteen, tall and slim, but -with those delicately rounded limbs which denote perfect health and strength; -her features were regular, her large grey eyes fringed with long lashes, the -tips of which curling up caught the sunlight, even as did the rich golden hair -which, waving back behind the small ears, fell in two long thick plaits below -her waist. She, like her mother, wore a black gown, a large white bibbed -apron, and sleeves turned back to the elbow, with facings of linen, scarcely -whiter than the rounded arms thus exposed to view. - -“I believe he will,” said Father Nat, in answer to her assertion; “but he will -never be content, never be satisfied again.” - -“We will trust he may, in time,” answered Loïs. “Why look ahead, dear Father -Nat?” - -“You are right, lass. ‘Sufficient unto the day.’ There’s the gong for supper; -come, the mother will follow.” - -Even as he spoke Martha and her children joined them, and together they passed -through the wicket gate which alone separated the two gardens. - -The meal was, according to the good old custom, taken in common, masters and -servants sitting at the same board. When the master entered the great kitchen, -some ten or twelve men and women employed on the home farm were standing about -in groups awaiting Nat’s appearance, and naturally discussing the great event -of the day. Doffing his broad wideawake, he bade them “Good-evening,” as did -also Martha and her children. The salutation was heartily returned, and then -he took his place at the head of the long table, upon which great joints of -cold viands and huge pasties were already exciting the appetites of those -about to partake thereof. When they were all gathered round the board, Father -Nat raised his hand to enforce silence, and in a solemn voice called upon God -to bless the fruits of the earth. When he had finished his prayer, before -uttering the usual “Amen” he paused; evidently some strong emotion checked his -power of speech, but all present felt he had something more to say, and waited -respectfully. - -“My friends,” he said at last, with a slight quiver in his manly voice, “you -all know that one we love has gone out from amongst us, to our great sorrow. I -commend him to your prayers. May the God of his fathers watch over him, and -guide his footsteps in the right way. Amen.” - -“Amen,” repeated all present, and then they seated themselves and the meal -began, but not gaily as usual, the cloud which rested on the master -overshadowing them all. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -PARTED - - -The sun was setting, and the rays of crimson light tinged the topmost branches -of the forest trees, but scarcely could be said to penetrate through the -closely interlaced branches. The long grass and thick undergrowth made walking -difficult, whilst the tightly entwined boughs of the trees formed a thick, -leafy canopy, perfectly impenetrable, added to which parasitic plants twined -up the huge trunks in luxuriant wildness. - -After he had, so to speak, fled from his home and his people, Charles Langlade -walked straight before him through the forest. He was a handsome man, his -mouth firm set, his nose rather large, and his chin prominent, cleft in the -middle. His eyes were grey, like those of his sister Loïs, and his eyebrows -marked. He wore, what was unusual among the hunters, his hair rather long. -Altogether his appearance was remarkable; there was something about him which -reminded one of the heroes of old, knights and crusaders. Suddenly he stopped, -and passed his hand across his brow as if trying to remember. - -“It has unnerved me,” he said aloud. “I shall lose my way if I don’t take -care.” - -As he spoke he stretched out his hand, and, passing it lightly over the trunk -of the nearest tree, knew instantly by the feel of the bark the direction he -was in, whether north or south, east or west. Satisfied, he strode forward, -stopping from time to time to make sure he was on the right track. - -This following a trail is perfectly simple to the Indian and the Canadian -hunter. They read every mark and sign in the wood as clearly as if they were -written; the moss, the lichen, tell their tale. No foot-print, however light, -can escape their notice; they know whether it be a white or red man’s foot, -whether it be of to-day or yesterday. - -It was thus with Charles Langlade. He walked unhesitatingly through the -darkness, until suddenly the forest came to an end, and he found himself -standing on an elevated plain overgrown with a sort of heather, sloping -gradually down to a river which flowed at its base. The moon had risen and was -shining with a clear light over the country, making visible the long line of -distant hills and the silvery stream, running low down through the land. He -waited a few seconds considering; then he gave a long, low whistle. -Immediately he was answered in the same way, and at some little distance a -figure rose from out of a clump of bushes and advanced quickly towards him. - -The individual was a man taller even than Charles, and in every way of larger -build, his clothes being of the same fashion. The two men clasped hands when -they met, and Charles said,-- - -“I’ve kept you waiting, old fellow.” - -“You’ve had a bad time of it, I expect,” said Roger Boscowen. “Is it really -over, and for good?” - -“Yes, indeed,” answered Charles, “and none too soon. I nearly gave in when -Loïs put her arms round my neck and entreated me to remain. I should not care -to go through that ordeal every day,” and he heaved a sigh. Even whilst -speaking they had both unfastened the skins and blankets they carried, and, -throwing them on the ground, lay down full length and rolled themselves in -them. - -“The chiefs will not be here till dawn,” said Charles; “we shall have a long -last night together, friend.” - -“Not long enough for all we have to say to each other,” answered Roger sadly. - -Charles Langlade turned his face towards him and stretched out his hand; Roger -laid his in it, and with only the pale light of the moon and stars shining -down upon them, they looked steadily into each other’s eyes. Two finer -specimens of early manhood it would have been difficult to find; they both -came of races who for generations had lived sober, healthy lives, fearing God, -and, as far as in them lay, keeping His commandments. - -Living hard lives, and frequently sleeping out in the open air, had made these -two young men vigorous and powerful beyond even what might have been expected. - -After a somewhat lengthened silence, Charles said gently,-- - -“We shall remain friends, Roger, for ever and for ever; my going will make no -difference between _us_?” - -“How can you imagine that should be possible?” answered Roger sombrely. “You -are going where I neither can nor will follow you. When the sun rises -to-morrow morning we shall bid each other farewell; you will go your way, I -shall go mine, and in all probability we shall not meet again, except it be as -enemies in the fray.” - -“Let us hope not that,” answered Charles, with a touch of sadness in his -voice; “and yet it is this pending conflict which must break out before long -which has in a great measure constrained me to take my present step. I cannot -bear arms against France; I hold they have the right of precedence in Canada.” - -“What is that to you ?” said Roger harshly. “You have been born under British -rule; if need be, it is your duty to fight for England, to protect your home -against the invader. That is all we ask you to do.” - -Charles Langlade shook his head. - -“You know as well as I do, Roger, that before long there will be a great and -mighty struggle between France and England; it is no fault of mine, but I -honestly tell you that all my instincts, all my feelings, are with the -Canadians. I believe they will defend the colony to their very uttermost; and -if only France send them help, they will probably be successful.” - -“Why then do you not join the Canadians openly, instead of allying yourself to -the Indians who are devoted to the French interests?” said Roger. - -“Because I will not give up my liberty,” answered Charles. “By remaining with -the Indians, and becoming probably in time a chief amongst them, I am free. I -trust to attain great influence in their councils, and perhaps prevent much -cruelty. If I offered myself for service to the present Government of Canada, -I should have to wink at much of which I disapprove. Peculation and robbery -are the order of the day. Vaudreuil is a fool, and Bigot, his Controller of -Finance, a knave. No, thank you; I prefer my savage chiefs to such civilised -rascals. You know I went to both Quebec and Montreal to see for myself how -matters stood, and I came away disgusted. If France loses Canada, it will be -through the incapacity of the men she has placed at the helm.” - -“And you will marry Ominipeg’s daughter?” said Roger. - -“Yes, such is my intention,” answered Charles. “The Indian maiden is gentle -and possessed of all good instincts, and she loves me. She will become a -Christian, and I shall wed her. She knows no will but mine; surely she will -make me happier than any other girl, who might worry me with her humours. I -know all you have to say against it--the fate of the children who may be born -to me; but that is a matter for after consideration.” - -“I have done,” said Roger, and he threw himself back on the ground with a -gesture of despair. - -“Nay, but, Roger, we shall not be wholly parted; you will come out to my -wigwam in the hunting season, and we shall be together. You are no stranger to -the tribe I am about to join; you will be always welcome.” - -“Not if war break out and we are on opposite sides,” said Roger. - -“Listen,” said Charles; “I have something to tell you, which I will confide -only to you,” and drawing closer still he whispered into Roger’s ear, and for -a time they conversed in low voices together. - -“Wrong can never be right,” said the latter at last. “The Indians are a -treacherous race. If you offend them, mark my word, they will be revenged. Now -let us sleep; it will soon be morning;” and side by side, with their hands -clasped in each other’s, as they were wont to lie when boys, they fell asleep. - -The day was just dawning, and the soft hazy light of early morn was creeping -over the land, when suddenly and simultaneously they awoke. They cast one -questioning look at each other, and sprang to their feet. - -Paddling slowly down the river which ran below were some fifty canoes, filled -with Indians in their most gorgeous array, uttering, as they moved slowly on, -loud cries of delight, and gesticulating wildly. - -“They have come for me,” said Charles, his voice quivering with the multitude -of his emotions. - -Do we ever take a decisive step in life without a momentary hesitation--a -backward glance of regret at the past we are leaving behind, and an -instinctive fear of the unknown future? - -Roger saw it, and a wild hope flashed through his heart. “There is yet time to -hold back!” he said, in a low, eager voice, laying his hand on his friend’s -arm, as if to detain him. - -“Nay,” answered Charles, throwing back his head. “I have passed my word and I -will not now draw back. Farewell.” He wrung Roger’s hand; then, drawing -himself up to his full height, he repeated the Indians’ cry, and, bounding -down the slope, stood at the river’s edge in full view of the canoes, which -stopped paddling, the Indians in them showing signs of satisfaction at the -sight of their new ally. - -Two canoes came close up to the bank. In the first stood a chief, more -gorgeously arrayed than his fellows, with ceremonial paint, scalp locks, eagle -plumes, and armed with steel hatchet and stone war-club. He stretched out his -hand to Charles, who immediately entered his canoe, renewed shouts from the -Indians making him welcome. - -And Roger, standing where his friend had left him, with his arms folded, saw -Charles, as he stood beside the chief, look up at him and wave his cap in -token of farewell, as his frail bark, taking the lead, was paddled down the -stream, the others following in compact order. - -Roger never moved until the last of the crews had disappeared and silence had -once more fallen on the land; then he threw himself down on the spot where -they had passed the night together, and, strong, brave man though he was, wept -bitterly for the friend who had departed from him. - - - - -CHAPTER III - -BAD NEWS - - -“Well, Loïs, I think it’s pretty nearly time Roger was back amongst us; he’s -been gone over two months,” said Father Nat, standing beside Loïs, as she sat -on the broad window-seat, a large basket of household linen beside her, which -she was carefully sorting and arranging. She and her mother managed Father -Nat’s household matters as well as their own, whilst he looked after the -outdoor work of the two farms. Virtually they really formed but one community: -all their interests were in common; but they maintained their separate -establishments. Nokomis, a coloured woman, ruled in the kitchen of Omega -Marsh, and in her department suffered no interference; but the linen was Loïs’ -care: twice every week she spent the whole day putting it in order. When -Father Nat made the above remark, she paused in what she was doing and said,-- - -“Two months, Father Nat! It is ten weeks since he started for Oswega.” - -“Ten weeks, is it?” answered Nat. “He ought to be back, Loïs;” and turning -away from her, he looked steadily out of the window. - -“Yes, he ought,” she answered; “I understood he had left Oswega a month ago?” - -“So he did,” answered Nat; “he went with some other traders to Miamis, you -know--the village of Old Britain.” - -“He’s safe there,” said Loïs. “I thought you always said Old Britain was a -fast friend of the English?” - -“So he is, but the French don’t half like it; they are always trying to get -him on their side. But what with presents and selling our goods dirt cheap, -we’ve managed somehow to keep him and his tribe satisfied; but I expect every -day to hear the French have either bought him over or destroyed and plundered -the village.” - -“I believe you’ve heard something already,” said Loïs, and she went and stood -beside him. “What is it, Father Nat?” she asked anxiously. - -He did not answer immediately. At last, in a hurried voice, he said,-- - -“There is a rumour, but it may be false. I don’t want to give heed to it.” - -“What is it?” repeated Loïs. “Tell me quickly, Father Nat,” and in her -excitement she laid her hand on his arm. - -“The news has come,” said Nathaniel slowly, “that a fleet of canoes manned by -two hundred and fifty Ottawa and Ogibwa warriors have paddled down the lakes -from Green Bay and so up the Maumee, and when last heard of they were marching -through the forests against the Miamis. - -“This news is three weeks old. If it be true, they will have surprised Old -Britain and made short work of him, for you know most of the men of the tribe -are away at this time for the summer hunting; only the old men, squaws, and -children remain in the village. Roger, as I said, was going there with other -traders; it strikes me if all had gone well he would have been home by this -time.” - -“Do you know anything else?” asked Loïs, and the very way in which she put the -question was proof that she expected something more. - -Nathaniel hesitated. - -“Hush, do not say it,” she said, throwing back her head, whilst tears filled -her eyes. “Charles was at Green Bay when last we heard of him,” and she wrung -her hands. - -“It is of no use, Loïs; we must make up our minds to it,” said Father Nat with -a sigh. “He has passed away from us; he is gone over to the enemy, and in the -war which is threatening us his hand will be against his own home and against -his own people. I have heard that in the two years he has dwelt amongst them -he has become a great man with the Indians; and the French hold him also in -much esteem, partly because of his influence with the tribes, partly on -account of his knowledge of Indian warfare and his forest lore. It is certain -that an expedition did start from Green Bay commanded by a white man; they -stopped at the fort at Detroit; but whether the white man was Charles, and -whether they pushed on as far as Old Britain’s, we do not know.” - -Loïs had listened in silence, with bowed head. Suddenly she looked up, a light -in her eyes. - -“Father,” she said, “Charles would defend Roger with his own life; he would -never suffer any one to touch a hair of his head.” - -“If he happened to come across him! But with two hundred devils rushing into a -half-deserted village, ten chances to one they would never meet; they would -have scalped him before Charles came up. Besides, he could not restrain them. -I know too well what Indians are like when they have once tasted blood. And to -think that a Langlade should consort with such devils! There is little doubt, -Loïs, if Old Britain has been attacked, and Roger happened to be there, as I -am pretty sure he was, I shall never see my son again,--and he is my only -son!” - -“Father, I am here.” - -Nathaniel and Loïs turned sharply round, the latter with a faint cry, and -there, leaning against the wall close by the door, stood Roger. He could move -no farther. His clothes were torn almost to rags, one arm was in a sling, his -head was bandaged, his face colourless; but worse than all was the look of -despair in his eyes. Loïs crossed the room rapidly, and, pushing a chair -towards him, said,-- - -“Sit down, Roger.” - -Mechanically he obeyed, and from his parched lips came in a hard guttural -voice the one word, “Water.” - -Loïs hastened away, and Nathaniel, laying his hand on his son’s shoulder, said -with ill-disguised emotion,-- - -“Thank God you’re back, lad; but you’ve had a hard time of it.” - -Roger made no answer; he merely bowed his head, and, taking from Loïs the bowl -she now offered him, drained it at one draught. - -“Fetch your mother,” said Nat, and once more the girl disappeared. “Now, -Roger, cheer up, lad,” he continued. “When Martha has looked at your wounds, -go straight away upstairs and sleep it off. Don’t try to tell us anything at -present. I guess pretty well what has happened. It’s been rough work; but -you’ve escaped with your life, and that’s more than I expected. Will you eat -something?” - -Roger shook his head, and rising to his feet he almost wailed forth,-- - -“He was my friend--my own familiar friend!” - -It was terrible to see the agony in his face. Physical pain is as nothing -compared with the wrench of the heart’s strings. Roger had gone away a young -man; he came back with heavy lines across his brow, and a drawn, hard look -about his mouth. - -Martha now came in, followed by Loïs. - -“There, don’t ye fret, Roger,” she said; “the thing’s done, and there’s no -mending of it. Sit ye down, and let me see what ails your head and arm. I’d -like to think it were none of his doing?” - -Martha uttered the last words wistfully, almost questioningly; but Roger made -no answer, and a deep sigh escaped her as she proceeded to unbandage his head. -He was as docile as a little child under her hands. - -“Get plenty of water and linen, Loïs, and be quick about it,” said Martha -sharply; “and you, Nat, just hand me those scissors.” As they both turned away -to obey her she bent over Roger, and whispered in a quivering voice, “It can’t -hurt you as it hurts me, his mother.” - -“He saved my life,” said Roger. - -“Thank God for that,” answered Martha; and turning round, she added, “Do you -hear, Father Nat? My poor boy saved Roger’s life,” and great tears ran down -her cheeks. - -“I said he would!” came from Loïs, who returned with basin and ewer just as -her mother uttered the last words. - -“But I’d rather have died than have seen him as he now is,” said Roger. - -“Nay, lad,” returned Nat; “your dying would not have given him back to us: it -would but have made our hearts the sorer. Live to prove yourself the better -man. Now be quick, Martha; the sooner he’s in bed the better.” - -The wound on Roger’s head was both deep and painful; it had been caused by a -blow from a steel hatchet--how it had not killed him was the marvel. His arm -had a deep flesh wound. But what ailed him most was the great moral -depression. He had evidently received a shock, from which he had not been able -as yet to recover. Loïs as she helped her mother watched him closely, but she -kept silent, knowing the sorrow was still too fresh to allow of comfort. When -the dressing was over and he had drunk another bowl of fresh water, he rose, -saying,-- - -“I will follow your advice, father, and go to bed. Call me at suppertime.” - -And without uttering another word, looking neither to the right hand nor to -the left, he quitted the kitchen. They heard him go slowly up the stairs, and, -crossing the floor of the room overhead, fall heavily upon his bed. - -Father Nat gave a deep groan, and Martha, sinking on a settle, threw her apron -over her head and sobbed bitterly. - -Loïs, kneeling down beside her mother, laid her head on her shoulder. No one -spoke; they were realising for the first time how great the barrier must needs -be which had arisen between them and Charles Langlade, the Indian chief. - -“I’d sooner have seen him lying dead before me,” moaned Martha. - -“Nay, nay, Martha, say not so; life is life--there is no hope in the grave! -Remember David, who ‘fasted and wept while the child was yet alive’ in the -hope that ‘God might be gracious and that the child might live, but after he -was dead he ceased all outward signs of mourning and bowed his head and -worshipped God.’ Is it nothing that we can still pray the Father to bring our -dear one home to us again?” - -Father Nat’s voice was full of deep emotion, and taking up his hat he too went -forth. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -“MY OWN FAMILIAR FRIEND!” - - -Supper was over; the men and women employed about the house and home farm had -dispersed. Father Nat sat in his large wooden armchair within the great -fireplace, his pipe between his teeth; but it had gone out, and in his -preoccupation he had not noticed the fact. Opposite him sat Martha Langlade -knitting, and the click of her needles was heard above the murmuring voices of -the two younger girls, who were busy conning over their lessons for the -morrow. In marked distinction to the Canadians, and French colonies, education -was held in high esteem, and indeed enforced, in the New England states. -Whenever a settlement mustered a sufficiently large population to be able to -support a minister, there, beside the church or chapel, a schoolhouse was sure -to spring up, the functions of minister and schoolmaster being generally -united in the same person. In the broad window-seat Loïs was telling Marcus -the particulars of Roger’s return. The young man was now nearly twenty. -Physically he resembled his brother, but in character he was the very -opposite. Warfare was hateful to him; had he lived in quiet times he would -have been a student. John Cleveland, the minister of the Marshes, had -earnestly desired that he should be brought up to the ministry; but when his -elder brother left them, Marcus knew that his place was at home, that his -mother and sisters needed him, and quietly, without a murmur, he had put his -own wishes on one side, and applied himself to the management of the farm. He -was not brilliant like either Roger or Charles, but he was doggedly -industrious, and Father Nat seldom had reason to complain. He was also a good -son, and Martha, though she often grumbled at what she termed his slowness, -knew it well; but he was not her firstborn, and he was fully aware that, -labour as he might, he never succeeded in filling the vacant place in his -mother’s heart; he never could replace the eldest son after whom she yearned! -Loïs and he were great friends; they had always been so, trusting and -supporting each other in all things. - -“He’s slept over eight hours,” said Father Nat at last. - -Loïs turned round, listened for a moment, then said,-- - -“He’s moving now; he’ll surely be wanting some food. I’ll go and see to it;” -and rising she went into the outer kitchen, listening all the time for his -step on the stairs as she and Nokomis prepared the supper. At last it came, -not firm and quick as usual, but slow and heavy, as if the soul of the man -were also heavy within him. - -“Give me the scones, Nokomis,” said Loïs; and, taking the dish, she entered -the front kitchen by one door as Roger came in by the other. - -“You’ve had a good sleep and must need your supper,” she said with a smile. -“Nokomis has kept some scones hot for you.” - -“Thank you,” he answered, and then lifting his eyes he looked round the room. -Marcus held out his hand. - -“I’m glad you’re back, Roger,” he said, “but desperately sorry for the cause -which kept you away.” - -“I knew you would be,” answered Roger, as he seated himself at the table, -where one of the younger girls had hastened to spread a snowy cloth, upon -which Loïs placed the food. - -“Are your wounds easier, Roger?” asked Martha. - -“I scarcely feel my arm, but my head aches badly,” he answered. - -“You want food; you’ll be better after supper,” said his father. - -“Maybe,” answered Roger carelessly, and he took up his knife and fork and -began mechanically to eat the food Loïs put upon his plate. But after the -first few mouthfuls, nature asserted her rights. He was young and strong, had -fasted all that day, and the fever of his wounds having left him, his appetite -returned, and Loïs had the satisfaction of seeing the food disappear. - -With infinite tact she told him of little events which had taken place in the -settlement during his absence. Father Nat, Marcus, and the others joined in, -so that the conversation became general. Roger kept silence, but he was -evidently listening. Suddenly the door opened, and John Cleveland, the -minister, entered. He and Nathaniel had been friends ever since he had been -elected minister of the Marsh villages. The young Langlades and Boscowens had -had no other teacher; he had married a Boscowen, a cousin of the present head -of the house, and was therefore one of the family. - -Every evening, summer and winter alike, he smoked his pipe in the chimney -corner of Omega Marsh. Roger Boscowen and Charles Langlade had been great -favourites with him, and both the young men returned his affection. He had -done his best to prevent the latter taking the fatal step which had plunged -them all into sorrow; failing to do so, he had grieved for him almost as -bitterly as Nat had done. - -Whilst Roger was sleeping, his father had gone over to the minister’s house -and told him of the boys’ return. - -“But I don’t like the look in his eyes,” he had said; “the meeting with -Charles, under present circumstances, has unhinged him terribly. It’s not the -fighting, nor the wounds; it’s the moral shock. I don’t think he ever really -realised the change before. You’ll see what you think of him when you come up -to-night.” - -Entering the kitchen, John Cleveland went straight up to Roger, and laying his -hand on his shoulder said earnestly,-- - -“Thank God you’re home again! Your father and I have been in trouble about -you, Roger. You’ve had a hard time of it, lad. But it’s well, perhaps, you -should look things straight in the face; you know now for certain that he we -loved so well is lost to us, unless God in His great goodness vouchsafes to -bring him home. In the meantime you are our hope and stay, Roger. Your name is -in every mouth throughout the towns and villages of New England, as the man -most capable of defending us against the French and Indians. The vote has been -given; you are to be elected Captain of the Rangers, because of your superior -knowledge in woodcraft. Within the last few days the story of Old Britain’s -massacre has spread terror everywhere. There are those who still remember the -massacre of Haverhill, when their minister was beaten to death and the men, -women, and children murdered in cold blood, upwards of forty years ago. I am a -man of peace and I preach peace; but if the heathen assail us, we must arise -and defend ourselves: we cannot see our wives and children massacred or led -captives before our eyes. Therefore I say to you, Roger Boscowen, Arise and -gird on your sword, for it is a righteous cause you are called upon to defend. -All the young men of New England and along the border are prepared to obey you -as their leader, and to aid you in the defence of our hearths and homes. Let -not your heart faint within you,” he continued kindly, lowering his voice, -“because he you loved has gone over to the enemy. Jonathan and David fought -not in the same camp, yet they loved each other to the end. If you cannot tear -out the brotherly affection which has grown with your growth and has been so -sweet to you, make up your mind to sacrifice it at the call of duty.” - -He ceased, and there was a moment’s silence; then Roger arose, and standing in -the midst of them said,-- - -“You are right, Mr. Cleveland, and I thank you for putting into words the -struggle which has been going on within me. But it is over. From henceforth he -and I are strangers one to another.” - -He paused, drew a long breath, and then, as if he had cast something far away -from him, crossed over to where his father sat, and, taking the seat beside -him, said,-- - -“Now, if you will let me, I will tell you all that has happened since I left -home: it is a long and painful story.” - -In a few minutes all those present had gathered round him. Martha laid her -knitting down and folded her hands to listen. It was of her son, her -firstborn, she was about to hear, and it seemed to her as if her heart were -like to break. - -When they were all settled Roger began. “I found upon reaching Oswega that -trade was far from flourishing. The French are growing very aggressive, and -are daily becoming better friends with the Indians; they are liberal with both -presents and promises, whereas we are neither; indeed, the Indians accuse us -of not keeping faith with them. I and a dozen other traders decided therefore -to go and see what we could do with Old Britain and the Miamis. It was the end -of May when we reached the village. Most of the Indians were away on their -summer hunt; but Old Britain received us well, and persuaded us to remain till -some of the tribe should return. Thinking this might prove advantageous, as -they were sure to bring fresh skins with them, we agreed to do so. Everything -went well for the first fortnight; then we heard rumours of raids farther up -the country, and I saw Old Britain was anxious. Once or twice he sent men out -as scouts; but they came back saying they had seen no enemy, that the land was -quiet; so, though he took every precaution against being surprised, he was -satisfied there was no immediate danger to fear. He was not made aware by any -sign that on the night of June 20th the enemy slept quietly in the near -forest. They had come down the lakes in a fleet of canoes, two hundred and -fifty picked warriors of the Ottawa and Ogibwa tribes. Silently, as only -Indians can march, they made their way through the forest. At daybreak we were -aroused by the shrill cry we all know so well, and then they were upon us, -spreading terror through the village. The rifle rang out, the cry of the dying -arose. Old Britain and his Indians fought bravely; but of course from the -first it was hopeless--numbers were against them. They were slain or taken -prisoners every one of them: it was a hideous spectacle. We traders had taken -refuge in the warehouse, where till five in the afternoon we defended -ourselves against fearful odds. Early in the day I had seen and recognised -their chief. No need for me to tell you who he was! Three of our men managed -to get out, hoping to reach the forest and escape: they failed, and were -massacred before our eyes. Then the Indians swarmed over the palisades into -the warehouse, and we knew that our last hour had come; but foremost, trying -to hold them in check, came their chief. When he saw me he sprang wildly -forward, covering me with his own body. ‘For God’s sake surrender!’ he said. -‘Never!’ I answered, and fired over his head. An Indian fell; it was a signal -for all the others to rush on. _He_ turned upon me. I never shall forget the -look in his face. I saw the glittering steel in his hand as he threw the whole -weight of his body upon me and struck me down. - -“When I recovered consciousness I found myself in a log hut in the middle of -the forest, _he_ standing over me bathing my head. - -“‘I couldn’t help it, old fellow,’ he said. ‘It was the only way of saving -your life.’” - -Roger paused. His voice failed him, so deep was his emotion; but when he spoke -again he had mastered himself. - -“I stayed in that hut a whole week unable to move; he kept guard over me and -nursed me night and day. At the end of that time I was fit to travel. He -brought me on my way until I was out of danger; then we parted. Ask me not -what we said one to the other during those days and nights we were alone -together; from henceforth we have agreed to strive our very uttermost never to -meet again, never to look into each other’s faces. We are dead to one another. -He told me that not for worlds would he again go through the agony he endured -when he felled me to the earth, and stood over my body to prevent his Indians -scalping me. Was I dead or alive? Had the curse of Cain descended upon him? He -had conquered me; I was his captive,--that was all he knew, and by that right -he saved me from the Indians. Not till night had fallen and they were deep in -their disgusting orgies did he and John Stone, the lad who followed him as his -servant, venture to do more than thrust me into an outhouse, lock the door, -and threaten vengeance upon any one who should molest me. I was his prize and -he was chief! They dared not disobey. During the night he and John carried me -to a deserted hut in the forest, where I was comparatively safe. It is a week -since we parted company. I have travelled slowly, from weakness, and because I -was only able to carry a small amount of food. More than once I thought I must -lie down and die after he left me.” - -Roger stopped short. “That is all,” he said, looking round. The womenkind were -weeping, the men’s faces were stern. Then John Cleveland stood up. - -“Let us pray,” he said; and, after the fashion of the old Puritans, they all -arose and stood with clasped hands and bowed heads whilst the minister prayed. - -“O Lord, we thank Thee for Thy great mercy in delivering our dear brother from -the jaws of the lion and bringing him back amongst us. In Thy great wisdom -Thou hast done this thing, that he may be as Moses of old, a deliverer of Thy -people. Strengthen him, O Lord; enlighten him, that he may overcome in Thy -might the heathen and the oppressor. Give us peace, O Lord, we pray Thee; but -if because of the wickedness in the land war cometh upon us, then give us the -victory. Teach Thou ‘our hands to war’ that we may glorify Thy Name, and that -the strange nations may do likewise. And over this household we pray Thee -stretch forth Thine hand. Be merciful to the widow and fatherless in their -affliction, and in Thy good time bring back the wandering sheep into the fold. -Enable us to cast out all affections which tend not to Thy glory, and to -worship Thee alone, the only true God, for Thy Son Jesus Christ’s sake. Amen.” - -“Amen,” answered the little congregation. - -“Peace be with you all,” said the minister, stretching forth his hand. - -And so, without further speech, but with silent hand-clasping, they parted for -the night. When all were gone, and Father Nat and Roger stood alone on the -hearth, the former said,-- - -“It will be war, Roger.” - -“Ay, father; it will be a terrible war,” he answered. “Brother against -brother. How shall I endure?” - -“The Lord’s will be done. He will surely give you strength. Now let us go to -rest, my son,” said the elder man; and, putting out the lights, father and son -went up the broad oak staircase together, the summer moon shining in through -the casement window lighting their darkness. But their hearts were heavy -within them. - - - - -CHAPTER V - -A HERO - - -“Grandmother, where is Canada?” and a small dark girl of about sixteen years -of age leant, as she asked the question, over the back of a garden chair, in -which sat an old lady of nearly seventy years of age. - -The scene was the terrace of the Château of Candiac in Languedoc. It was -evening, and the crimson light of the setting sun illumined the whole valley, -and was reflected in the numerous windows of the Castle, until the ancient -fortress seemed almost on fire. It was the setting of a Southern sun, which -had poured down the whole livelong day, scorching up the grass and driving men -and beasts to seek refuge in sheltered spots; no breath of air stirred the -trees, no animal had even yet ventured abroad. A dead silence still reigned -over the landscape, as if exhausted nature were waiting patiently for the soft -and refreshing night dews to restore her energies. - -“Canada, Mercèdes, is at the other end of the world, my child,” answered -Madame de St. Verin. “And I greatly fear if your father goes thither he will -never return again. It is a land of savages, where they eat one another;” and -her eyes filled with tears, and the white bejewelled hands resting on her lap -were clasped together with nervous energy. - -“Nay, madame,” said a younger lady, turning round, for she had been gazing -earnestly along the white road which ran through the valley, “why terrify the -children? If their father accepts this post of danger and of honour, surely it -is more for their sakes than his own! We are noble, but we are poor, and there -are many children to establish in the world--a serious matter as times go.” - -“I know, my daughter,” said Madame de St. Verin gently; “but if you have six -sons and daughters, I have only one son left to me in my old age.” - -“Pardon me, dear madame,” replied Madame de Montcalm. “It is a hard necessity -for us all; if it were not a necessity my dear husband would assuredly not -separate himself from us, for you know how well he loves his home.” - -“Well said, wife!” and an arm was thrown round her and a kiss imprinted on her -forehead by a cavalier, dusty and travel-stained. - -“Father, dear father!” and Mercèdes clung to him. “How did you come? We have -been straining our eyes to catch the first glimpse of you on the high road.” - -“Have you forgotten the short cut through the village at the back of the -Château, Mercèdes? I left my escort to come on by the high road, and myself -came across country, through the pine forest. I did this to gain time. I have -not an hour to lose. I must leave you the day after to-morrow; for you may -congratulate me, I have received my nomination as General-in-Chief of his -Majesty’s army in Canada.” - -“Oh, father!” exclaimed Mercèdes. - -“My dear husband!” said Madame de Montcalm, holding his hand. - -“Mother,” said the General, embracing the old lady, from whose eyes tears fell -fast. - -“It will be a last farewell between thee and me, my son,” she said. - -“Nay; wherefore take this gloomy view of the situation?” he answered. “If I -remained here I should be nominated to a regiment, and should, I hope, see -some service. It is only a change of country, with the superior advantages of -a higher position and better chances for the future. My eldest son is to go -back with me to Versailles, to be presented to the King and given a -commission. Why, mother, I thought you would rejoice, and hurried on to bring -you the good news. I may be absent a year--two perhaps, if the English prove -very stubborn. Who knows? I may be Military Governor of Canada when the war is -over, and come home and fetch you all out, and you will hold your court like a -queen in the Government House at Quebec,” and he laughed so brightly that the -clouds seemed to break and the natural fears of those who loved him to dispel -in the sunshine of his presence. - -“You were always hopeful, Louis,” said his mother. - -“Why should I be otherwise?” he answered. “We have desired this appointment; -and though at first I hesitated because of the heavy responsibilities it -entails, I have come to the conclusion that I am as capable as another, and -that Canada is worth fighting for. It is a French colony, inhabited for -generations past by our own people. It is ‘New France.’ Surely it were a -national disgrace to let it slip through our fingers.” - -He spoke enthusiastically: all his patriotism, all his ambition, was aroused; -a fresh life was opening out before him, and he rejoiced in the prospect. - -Louis, Marquis de Montcalm, the new Commander-in-Chief of Canada, was in -stature rather short than tall, but his bearing was dignified and his manners -courteous. His eyes were dark and wonderfully brilliant; indeed, the whole -expression of his face inspired confidence and affection. He had married in -early life Mademoiselle Louise de Roulay, and the marriage had proved a happy -one. Ten children had been born to them; but six only were living at the time -of our story. - -Throughout life, in the midst of the corrupt court of Louis XV., the Marquis -de Montcalm had remained a good man and a true Christian, an example in all -things to the young officers and soldiers under him. His courage and -sympathetic brightness won the hearts of all who came in contact with him, and -he was beloved, both in life and after death, as it is given to few men to be. - -“Where are all my other children?” he asked, looking around, when by his words -and manner he had succeeded in calming his mother’s fears. - -“They went to meet you; see, they are coming through the chestnut grove, and -here is Toto,” said Madame de Montcalm, lifting up a three-year-old child who -came running along the terrace towards them, and placing her in her husband’s -arms. He kissed the child tenderly, waited till the others came up--two sons -and two daughters--who, as soon as they caught sight of him, ran forward with -joyous welcome. When the glad greetings were over, and they had all calmed -down, he said,-- - -“Now I will go to my room and brush off some of the dust of my journey, and -then to supper. I must see neither tears nor sad faces, remember; it is a good -thing and a great honour which has befallen me. Come, mother,” and with -exquisite gallantry he put his mother’s arm within his own, took his wife’s -hand, and, followed by his troop of sons and daughters, entered the Castle. In -the great hall the servants, many of whom had grown old in the family, stood -ranged on either side to welcome him, for the news of his arrival had spread -rapidly. He smiled and nodded to them with pleasant familiarity, saying in his -cheery voice, “You may congratulate me, my friends. Your lord is indeed -nominated to high office as ‘General to his most gracious Majesty’s army in -Canada.’ Who will go with me?” - -A murmur of congratulation followed these words; and instantly three men, all -young, stepped out from amongst the servitors, and, bowing low before the -marquis, the foremost one said,-- - -“We are ready to follow our gracious master to the world’s end.” - -“My good Estève,” said the marquis, holding out his hand to his secretary, who -carried it to his lips, “thanks a thousand times; I should be lost without -you. And you, Joseph and Déjean! you too are willing to brave the dangers of -the sea to accompany your master?” - -“We are, if our master will graciously accept our services,” said Joseph, his -valet. - -“I should be indeed churlish if I refused,” said Montcalm. “Thanks, my -friends; be ready to start to-morrow. It will be sharp work; the troops are -even now at Brest, ready to embark.” And so saying, he passed on till he -reached his own apartments and disappeared from view. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -A BRAVE HEART - - -“Father, are there no convents in Canada?” asked Mercèdes. - -“At Quebec, my daughter, I believe the Ursuline Convent is a very fine -establishment,” said the General. “It was founded more than a hundred years -ago, in 1640, by a very rich and very beautiful woman, Madame de Peltrie. It -is a romantic story. Her home was near Caen, in Normandy, and her husband -dying soon after her marriage, she desired to enter a nunnery; but her father, -who was old, opposed her wishes, and she remained with him until his death. -Then she sold all her possessions, and with another lady like-minded, Marie de -l’Incarnation, set sail with a party of Jesuit missionaries for Canada. After -untold hardships they arrived at Quebec; and there she built a convent and -opened a school for Indian children, which she dedicated to St. Ursula.” - -“How do you know all this, father?” asked the young girl, as she walked beside -him on the terrace early the following morning. - -Mercèdes was the General’s especial favourite, and when he was at home was -always with him; nevertheless, being the third daughter, from an early age she -had been destined to a convent life. She was perfectly happy, and looked upon -her future with complacent satisfaction; it was the fate of many highborn -girls in those days. She closely resembled her father, was small, sallow of -complexion, with dark, sparkling eyes, full of intelligence and sweetness. - -“I learnt the story through a Jesuit whom I met the other day at Court,” -answered her father. “He had just returned from Canada, and when he heard who -I was, and my position, he gave me much useful information. He is a remarkably -intelligent man, and very devoted to the interests of the colony. He has been -a missionary amongst the Indian tribe of the Iroquois for over twenty years. -He will probably return with me. His name is Father Mathevet.” - -“And he said the convent was a good one? Are the nuns French?” asked Mercèdes. - -“French Canadians mostly; but I believe he mentioned that two or three ladies -from the mother country had joined the community within the last year.” - -“Father, let me go.” - -“You, Mercèdes? My child, it is impossible!” - -“Why impossible?” she said, in a coaxing voice. “It is settled for me to begin -my novitiate at the Augustines; why should I not go out to Canada with you and -enter the Ursulines? I should like it much better. It would be rather amusing -teaching Indian children; and then you would not be alone.” - -He looked down at her. The plan seemed to chime in with his dearest wishes. -The General was a man devoted to his home and his children, and the thought of -being separated from them all, though he accepted it as a necessity, was very -painful to him. The sudden idea of having this child, his little Mercèdes, -within reach, to whom he might speak of the dear absent ones, who in all -things would sympathise with and understand him, was such an unexpected joy. - -“Do you really mean it?” he asked. - -“If I did not, should I propose it?” she answered. “You know I am of small -account in the house, as it has always been settled I should be a nun; whether -I am here or in Canada it can make no difference. I do not belong to the -world, but to God; you and my mother gave me to Him when I was an infant; and -think how happy I shall be if, whilst fulfilling my vocation, I can be a -comfort to you, my dearest father,” and she clung to his arm. - -“That you would most assuredly be,” he said; “the very fact of having you near -me would be a comfort. But shall you not be afraid to go so far--to cross the -sea, Mercèdes?” - -She laughed such a bright, happy laugh. “Afraid of what?” she said. “Is not -God with us always on sea or on land? And your daughter! Shall I dare to be -afraid?” - -Her father smiled. “Brave heart!” he said; “truly I do not see why you should -not have your wish. A convent in France or in Canada, it cannot make much -difference--except to me,” he added, and, stooping, he kissed the young, eager -face. - -“You will speak to mother then?” she said. - -“Yes,” he answered thoughtfully. “If only I knew of some woman going out to -Canada!” - -“I know some one who would gladly go,” said Mercèdes. - -“Who?” asked the General. - -“My foster-mother, Marthe Dervieu. You know her husband is dead, and all her -children; she is quite alone, and loves no one in the world as she loves me. -Only last week she told me that when I entered the Augustines, she should go -there also as serving sister.” - -“That would indeed be just the thing; she is of a good age, neither too young -nor too old. Why, Mercèdes, everything seems to combine to carry out your -wishes,” said her father. - -“Marthe is just thirty-five; she was only nineteen when she nursed me,” -answered Mercèdes. “She will be so glad to go away from here, where she has -had so much sorrow. Here comes my mother; I will leave you with her, my dear -father. I am so happy!” and catching up his hand, she pressed it to her lips, -and then ran lightly down the steps leading from the terrace into the Château -gardens. - -That evening, after supper, it was announced to the assembled family that -Mercèdes was going out to Canada to become a novice in the Convent of the -Ursulines, and that her nurse Marthe Dervieu had agreed to accompany her. The -mother’s eyes were red with weeping, and the old grandmother, Madame de St. -Verin, held Mercèdes in her arms murmuring, “My poor lamb!” - -“Nay, grandmother,” said the girl, though tears choked her own voice. “You are -giving me to God; what matters it whether it be here or there, so that I do -Him service? And my dear father needs me; he will feel that I am near him, -praying, always praying for him; and when he is weary he will come into the -quiet cloister, and we shall speak of home and of you all. Nay, rather rejoice -that such high honour is accorded to me. Instead of an easy life of personal -devotion, which would be mine if I stayed here, I shall teach little Indian -children to worship Christ and show them the way to heaven. Give me your -blessing, grandmother;” and she sank on her knees before Madame de St. Verin, -who, touched by the girl’s devotion and enthusiasm, laid her thin white hands -on the dark hair, saying,-- - -“May God bless thee, my child, and have you in His holy keeping now and for -evermore.” - -“Amen,” said all present; and then they gathered round Mercèdes and embraced -her, and it was even as she desired, a scene more of joy than of sorrow. - -The following day the General left, accompanied only by his son the Chevalier -and Estève, his secretary. He decided at the last moment that his two servants -should wait to escort Mercèdes and Marthe when the time came for them to join -him. - -He would not allow the parting to be a sad one, reminding his children that -they were descended from heroes, and must demean themselves accordingly. - -The Montcalms traced their lineage back to Dieudonné Gozon, Grand-Master of -the order of St. John of Jerusalem, who in the sixteenth century delivered the -island of Rhodes from a monstrous serpent, which had long been the terror of -the inhabitants. For this service he was made Lieutenant-General, and -continued to distinguish himself so greatly that, when he died, at a good old -age, he was honoured and revered by all men. His race was continued by a long -line of knights and noble gentlemen, and so the Montcalms came to be reckoned -as a race of heroes, and were proud of their descent. - -The present Marquis, Louis de Montcalm, General-in-Chief of his Majesty’s army -in Canada, had entered upon his military career at the early age of fourteen, -as did also his great opponent General Wolfe. Boys were men in those days by -the force of circumstances. At the battle of Plaisance, in 1746, Montcalm was -three times wounded, and at the combat before Exiles twice. - -When still very young, he had stated in a letter to his father his idea of -what his aim and object in life ought to be. It is characteristic and worthy -of record. - -“First, to be an honourable man, of good morals, and a Christian. - -“Secondly, to read in moderation, to know as much Greek and Latin as most men -of the world; also to know the four rules of arithmetic, and something of -history, geography, and _belles lettres_, and have a certain knowledge of the -arts and sciences. - -“Thirdly, and above all things, to be obedient, docile, and very submissive to -your orders and those of my dear mother, and also to defer to the advice of -Monsieur Dumas. - -“Fourthly, to fence and ride as well as my small abilities will allow.” - -The above-mentioned Monsieur Dumas was the family preceptor, and he and the -young heir were somewhat antagonistic, Louis not responding as readily as -Dumas could have desired to the educational pressure to which he would have -subjected him. The tutor found a more apt pupil in the younger brother, who is -stated to have been an infant prodigy, but died at the early age of seven -years of water on the brain, having acquired during his short life, besides a -fair knowledge of his own maternal language, Latin, Greek, Hebrew, geography, -history sacred and profane, and various other minor studies. Probably his -early death by no means incited his brother to follow in his steps. - -Throughout life the Marquis de Montcalm maintained his code of honour, and, as -his ancestors had done before him, left to his children an untarnished name. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -THROUGH STORM AND TEMPEST - - -Not till the beginning of March of the following year did the expectant -household at the Château of Candiac receive the order for Mercèdes and her -party to set out and join her father at Rennes. He wrote thus to his wife:-- - - “Dearest,--The delay has been painfully trying; the Ministers have - been hard to rouse. I have obtained money, men, and ammunition - with great difficulty; but now the worst is over. I arrived at - Rennes this morning, and shall remain here until my little - Mercèdes appears, which will not be long now. I hope we shall be - at Brest on the 21st of March, and everything will be on board by - the 26th. - - “My son has been here since yesterday, for me to coach him and get - him a uniform made, in which he will give thanks for his regiment - at the same time as I take my leave in my embroidered coat. - Perhaps I shall leave debts behind; I wait impatiently for the - bills. You have my will; I wish you would get it copied, and send - it to me before I sail. I have much business on hand still. My - health is good, and the passage will be a time of rest. I shall - write up to the last moment. It is pleasant, I know, to hear - particulars of those we love, and my mother, and you, my dearest - and most beloved, will gladly read even the dullest details of my - life. I am much pleased with my second officer in command, - Chevalier Levis; he is brave and upright, full of expedients, and - a man to be trusted. I might say the same of Chevalier - Bougainville, the third in command. My greatest difficulty is - getting sufficient troops to face such a campaign. Only twelve - hundred men will embark with me. Now farewell; I embrace you, my - dearest, my mother, and my daughters. Love to all the family, - - “Your devoted husband, - Louis de Montcalm.” - -Poor Mercèdes! When she saw the sea and the great ships, the troops of -soldiers, and all the noise and bustle of the port, her heart sank for a -moment within her. But she soon recovered herself, and when her father looked -at her to see what impression the scene made upon her, she smiled and said -quite quietly,-- - -“I suppose one can get accustomed to everything, but it does seem strange -after our beautiful calm Candiac; I shall at least have seen something of the -world before I bid it farewell.” - -“The idea of crossing the sea does not then alarm you, my daughter?” asked the -General. - -“With God and with you, my father, what have I to fear?” she answered. - -It was a bright spring day, the second of April, when they went on board. Six -large vessels--large for those days--were in the harbour; their names have -come down to us--the _Léopard_, _Héros_, _Illustre_, _Licorne_, _Sauvage_, and -_Sirène_. Very different were they from the transport ships of to-day--devoid -of every comfort, sailing vessels, subject to wind and weather. The General, -with his officers Levis and Bougainville, and of course Mercèdes and Marthe, -took passage in the _Licorne_; but they waited to see the troops go on board, -which they did with incredible gaiety, so much so that Chevalier Bougainville -exclaimed, “What a nation is ours; happy is he who commands it and commands it -worthily!” And so, bravely with strong hearts, officers and men sailed for the -first time across the Atlantic, at the command of a country which virtually -forsook them in their hour of need. - -Poor Marthe Dervieu was very ill during the whole voyage, but Mercèdes after -the first few days recovered from the sea-sickness, and was so well and bright -that she put the men to shame. Whenever she could leave Marthe she came with -her father on deck, thankful to breathe the fresh sea-breeze in lieu of the -dark, stuffy cabin. - -“We are sure to arrive safely; we have a saint on board,” said the sailors. -Nevertheless, when they were in mid-ocean a fearful gale overtook them, which -lasted ninety hours. Many deemed their end was near. Mercèdes, as she lay -lashed into her hammock, thought of the sunny plains of Provence, now bright -with flowers; of the dear mother and grandmother, brothers and sisters; and it -seemed to her that she could hear their prayers above the howling of the winds -and the sound of many waters. Truly they were terrible nights and days, never -forgotten by those who passed through them; but at last the winds and the -waves were calmed, and the travellers breathed freely once more. Mercèdes was -unlashed; but she was so stiff that, upon trying to stand, she would have -fallen had not her father upheld and carried her on to the deck, to see the -wonderful icebergs which, as they approached the St. Lawrence, threatened them -with destruction, and made navigation so difficult that the ships advanced but -slowly, those on board being in continual fear lest the floating masses should -crash down upon them. - -General Montcalm was fast losing patience. But for Mercèdes he would have -landed, and made his way as best he could across country to Quebec; and one -day, as Mercèdes was standing behind him, he gave expression to this wish with -a certain amount of irritability. - -“Father,” said she unhesitatingly, “I have not come to be a hindrance, but a -help and comfort to you; if you hold back because of me, your duty will -suffer. I am young and strong, and Marthe is well now and will be much better -off the ship than on it. Let us land with you and make our way to Quebec.” - -The General looked down upon the brave little creature and smiled. “You do not -know what you are proposing, my child; it would be a difficult journey for -men, impossible for you: it is not to be thought of.” - -“General, do you see that canoe paddling towards us? I have been watching it -for some time; it is bearing down upon us, and, if I mistake not, is full of -Indians,” said Chevalier Levis, and he handed the General his long glass. - -“You are right; they are coming straight up the river. I wonder whether it -means peace or war. If I only knew the temper of the tribes towards us!” said -Montcalm. - -“That remains for us to find out in the future,” answered the Chevalier; “but -they are decidedly gaining upon us, and if I mistake not there is a white man -amongst them. Do you see that fellow standing up with the skin round his -shoulders toga fashion, and the fur cap on his head?” - -He had hardly finished speaking when the canoe glided up alongside the -_Licorne_, and the man they had been observing called out in French: - -“We are friends.” - -“It is well,” said Montcalm, stooping over the bulwarks; “you are welcome. -Will you come on board?” - -“Willingly,” answered Charles Langlade, for it was he; and easily, without the -slightest apparent effort, he swung himself up the sides of the great ship and -stood in their midst, such a noble specimen of humanity that the General, -stepping forward, held out his hand, saying,-- - -“Who are you? and what are you doing amongst those savages?” - -A ringing, joyous laugh responded to this question. “I am Charles Langlade,” -he said, “descended from the first French colonists, and now an Indian chief. -They are my people, and I belong to them,” and then he rapidly told such -portions of his story as he deemed advisable. - -“But if you so desired to serve France, why did you not join the regular -Canadian government and army?” asked the Chevalier Levis. - -“When you have been in Quebec six weeks, and have made acquaintance with those -who at present govern Canada, you will have no need to ask me that question,” -answered Charles. “For months I have been waiting for your coming. If Canada -is to be saved, it will be by you and not by them. And now I am on my way to -Quebec with some six hundred men of my tribe; and when I saw your ships coming -up the St. Lawrence, I knew that at last the old country had remembered us, -and so I put off to see if I could be of any service to you.” - -“Indeed you can,” said Montcalm eagerly. “I am very anxious to get to Quebec -myself as quickly as possible; but being utterly ignorant of the country and -the mode of travelling, I am at a loss how to proceed.” - -“If you are willing to entrust yourself to me, I think the journey can be -accomplished without great difficulty. Alone you would find it almost -impossible. It is the season of the year when we take our furs up to Quebec -for sale: if you will accompany us, I will ensure your reaching the city in -safety, and as rapidly as may be.” - -“I should be very grateful,” said the General, “but I am not alone. I cannot -well leave my daughter and her servant to land with the troops.” - -“Your daughter!” exclaimed Charles; for wrapped in a great cloak, with the -hood drawn down over her face to protect it from the wind, Mercèdes, standing -behind the officers, had escaped observation. Now she stepped forward, threw -back her hood, and showed a small white face, whiter and thinner than when she -left France, and with eyes which looked preternaturally large and brilliant. - -“I can travel,” she said; “I am not afraid either of the cold or of the -fatigue. I am very strong.” The pure intonation of the gentle voice, the -delicate refinement of the high-bred girl, were evident, even in these few -simple words, and came home to Charles Langlade with peculiar force, -unaccustomed as he was to civilised life. - -“Mademoiselle wishes to travel by land to Quebec?” he said, looking at her and -instinctively baring his head before her. - -“Yes,” she answered. “If my father goes I must go too; I cannot be a hindrance -to him.” - -“It will be difficult,” he said. “The snow and ice are only partially melted; -there are still large fields of ice. You do not know our Canada; it is a rude -country. If it were mid-winter it would be better than now; then the rivers -are frozen over and the land is covered with snow, and with skates, sleighs, -and snowshoes we can travel easily and rapidly; but now the thaw has set in, -and the rivers are no longer safe, the floods are rising, and the land is -inundated.” - -“You said you could take my father by land to Quebec,” she answered, speaking -imperatively; “therefore you must do it, and I and Marthe must go likewise. -You know you can if you will to do so.” - -He could not help smiling; she appeared such a child to him, so utterly -fearless because so utterly ignorant of danger. - -Take her! Of course he could take her, if, as she said, he so willed it; and -it seemed suddenly as if he had no will but hers. - -“It can be done, General,” he said, turning to the Marquis. “If you will trust -me, I will conduct your party to Quebec.” - -“Will it be safe?” said Chevalier Levis. “You do not know this man,” he added -in a low voice to the General. - -“If I say it is safe, who will dare gainsay me?” said Charles Langlade -haughtily. - -“We will go, father,” said Mercèdes, laying her hand on the General’s arm. - -He hesitated one moment; then he looked up at the Canadian hunter, saying, “I -will trust you. Go I must, for my duty calls me. When shall we start?” - -“It is too late to-day; to-morrow at dawn I will be here to fetch you.” - -“It is well; we will await you,” said the General. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -BY LAND - - -The dawn had hardly broken over the land when a low prolonged whistle -intimated to General Montcalm and his party that Charles Langlade, true to his -promise, awaited them. The cold was intense, more especially to those born and -bred in the sunny plains of Provence, and Mercèdes and her foster-mother -Marthe, notwithstanding all their resolution, shivered under their thick furs, -as they stood on the deck of the _Licorne_ for the last time. Charles Langlade -leapt on board, saluted the General and his officers, and then, turning to -Mercèdes, said,-- - -“You are still quite decided to make the venture, Mademoiselle?” - -“Quite,” she answered in a clear, sweet voice, which struck like the notes of -a silver bell on the Canadian’s ear. - -“It is well,” he answered. “I think we shall be fortunate. Snow has fallen all -night; it is freezing now; travelling will be easier than I expected.” He left -her, and helped to hand what little luggage the travellers ventured to take -with them into the canoe. No Indians had accompanied him on the present -occasion; he had only brought his faithful John Stone, who had rarely left him -since together they had bidden adieu to New England. - -He was standing up in the canoe now, ready to receive the strangers. Mercèdes -was the first to be lowered; Marthe, Estève, and the two servants followed. -The General lingered to say a few parting words to the officers he left in -command; then he, too, dropped into the canoe, and took his place beside his -daughter. A few seconds later the canoe was paddled to the shore. - -“Excuse me, Mademoiselle,” said Charles Langlade, and quietly he took Mercèdes -in his arms and leapt on land with her. John Stone did as much for Marthe. Two -Indians were awaiting them; one picked up the canoe, the other the luggage, -and all disappeared in the direction of the forest. It was the middle of -April, but the land was still snow-bound, though the thaw which had set in had -begun to loosen the ice on the lakes and rivers: it had been an unusually -severe and prolonged winter. - -Charles Langlade produced snowshoes for the party, and having duly adjusted -them they started. - -“As soon as we have crossed the forest we shall gain the open country for some -miles,” Charles explained to the General, “and sleighs will then carry us -rapidly over the ground.” But after their long confinement on the ship, the -travellers found walking for miles over the snow-covered ground so fatiguing -that, after a couple of hours’ march, they were obliged to rest before -entering the forest. A clearance was made, a huge fire lighted, round which -they all gathered, wrapped in skins and blankets to protect them from the cold -winds. Mercèdes was so exhausted that, after partaking of some food, she lay -with her head on her father’s shoulder and fell asleep. - -When she awoke she found herself being carried by two strong arms. She was so -muffled up that she could not in the least see who her bearer was, and a -sensation of unreasoning fear crept over her. “Father,” she called out, trying -to move. - -“Gently, Mademoiselle,” said a voice which she recognised at once. “You have -had a good rest, and will be glad to walk now, I daresay,” and she felt -herself placed on the ground, and her wraps loosened from around her. - -The whole party had stopped, and, as she stood in their midst, her father -said, smiling,-- - -“You’ve had the best of it, Mercèdes; we are nearly done up again, and you are -fresh as a young colt, or ought to be. Thank Monsieur; he has carried you for -the last two hours.” - -“Oh, how could you let him?” exclaimed Mercèdes reproachfully. - -“We could not leave you behind, and you were sleeping so deeply that it would -have been impossible to rouse you sufficiently for you to walk. Monsieur is -kind enough to say that your weight is nothing compared to that of a deer.” - -Charles laughed. “Indeed no,” he said; “you need not fear having wearied me, -Mademoiselle. I hardly knew I had a burden, you are so small and light. But -now we must hurry forward; we have still some distance to go before we reach -the log hut where we shall put up for the night.” - -“Poor Marthe! Let me help you; you can hardly drag yourself,” said Mercèdes to -her foster-mother. - -“I’m not so bad as that, Mademoiselle,” answered the patient peasant woman; -“the man’s like the master, he’s helped me along;” and she pointed to John -Stone, who smiled and nodded without understanding her, and, once more taking -her arm, he almost carried her over the ground. - -The day was drawing to a close when they reached the log or lumber camp, and -saw the smoke rising straight in the air, giving promise at least of shelter -and of warmth. - -These log or lumber camps were and are still all constructed on much the same -model, being composed of pine trunks, placed lengthwise one above the other, -with a sloping roof covered over with pine boughs, and often, as on the -present occasion, with a thick layer of snow. The fire is in the centre, and -the inmates lie on pallets made of the soft twigs of the spruce, with their -feet inwards, and well wrapped up in rugs and blankets. None but those who -have experienced it can conceive the comfort of a log hut in the depths of a -primeval forest. When Charles Langlade and his party arrived it was already -fairly crowded: but room was instantly made for the new-comers; they were -welcomed with true, genuine hospitality, such as is often lacking in more -civilised countries. They were offered a share of the coarse but wholesome -food--salt pork, bread, and potatoes, washed down with a weak decoction of a -sort of herb tea. Mercèdes and Marthe, with the wife of the lumber-man, were -the only women, amidst a score of men; but they were treated with the most -perfect respect, the warmest and most secluded corner being assigned to them; -and although every available space was occupied, there was no impurity in the -atmosphere, as an enormous log fire was kept constantly burning, and the -apartment was thus freely ventilated through the large smoke flue of the roof. -It would have required far greater discomfort to have prevented any of the -party from resting, so thoroughly were they all worn out with the unaccustomed -method of travelling and the exhilarating air they had inhaled all day. So it -came to pass that, wrapped in furs and blankets on the primitive pallets, they -fell asleep, and did not awake till with the dawn of day their companions -began to move; then they arose, and, after a frugal meal, started off once -more. - -There had been a heavy frost that night, which enabled them to run with ease -on snowshoes, with which they had now become familiar; therefore the fatigue -was less, and before noon they had reached the border of the forest. Here they -found the two Indians awaiting them with sleighs, in which, after resting for -a couple of hours, they started off again. This new way of travelling appeared -to them simply delightful, notwithstanding the cold wind which cut their faces -as they flew across the country. - -“We must hurry on,” said Charles Langlade to the General, who, with Mercèdes -and Marthe, occupied his sleigh; “the thaw is coming, and then the roads will -be impassable.” - -Several times they were stopped by rivers or broad streams, but they always -found the Indians waiting for them with the canoe or raft. - -“How have you done it? It is wonderful, such forethought,” said the General on -one occasion to Charles. - -“There is nothing wonderful in it,” he said. “The Indians know where I am -bound for and my needs; they are swift of foot, and every inch of the way is -familiar to them; it is child’s play.” - -The last part of the journey was comparatively easy; their road lay through -many a Canadian village, where they found ready hospitality; and when by -chance the General made himself known, the enthusiasm of the inhabitants was -unbounded. The population was entirely French, and intensely patriotic, loving -the old France with a, so to speak, idealised affection. - -“You may rest assured they will rise to a man when you call upon them to do -so,” said Charles Langlade; and then he added, with something very like a -sigh, “To-morrow you will reach Quebec.” - -“Thanks to you,” said the General. “I do not know how to express my gratitude -for your services!” - -“By making use of me whenever you can,” said Charles hastily. “Remember, I am -always ready. I ask for nothing better than to serve the cause of France, to -keep Canada for the old country. But the English are strong; they are -determined. Pitt is Minister, and he is sending out troops. It will be a hard -struggle, a desperate struggle; but if you conciliate the Indians they will -side with France, and they are a power in themselves. You do not know me yet; -but in Quebec Charles Langlade’s name is familiar, and you will learn that I -am a true man, ready to support you, and that you may have faith in me.” - -“You have no need to tell me that; you have proved it,” said the General. “You -are the first friend I have made in this country; from henceforth you will -rank first in my estimation and affection.” - -So saying, he held out his hand, and Charles Langlade clasped it, saying -solemnly, “It is a covenant between thee and me.” - -“Let it be so,” answered Montcalm. “And now we must hurry forward. I cannot -express to you my anxiety to begin operations. What I have already seen -convinces me that we must conquer in the long run.” - -“I trust so,” answered Charles; but, nevertheless, in his heart there was a -doubt. He knew better than the sanguine General all the difficulties and -stumbling-blocks which awaited him--party spirit, jealousies, corruption, -treason in high places. But he restrained himself, and would not give -utterance to the warning note. “Time enough; he will find it out for himself,” -he murmured, as he turned away to give the final orders for their last day’s -march. - -The thaw had set in now, and a south wind was blowing. The journey was to be -finished by boat up the St. Lawrence; there was no danger, and it was the -quickest mode of transport. - -“I am sorry it is over,” said Mercèdes, as she stood beside her father waiting -to embark. - -The General looked down upon her and smiled. - -“Decidedly Canadian travelling agrees with you; you are looking remarkably -well. I think your mother would hardly know you.” - -And he was right. The sallow-faced, thin girl had utterly changed: a rich -softness, a glow of colour now tinged her cheeks; her lips were red, her eyes -clear and bright like stars; the sharpness of feature had given place to a -rounded symmetry. She was not beautiful, she could never be that; but she was -pleasant to look upon--a picture of youth, wrapped in the dark sable cloak, -the hood fastened underneath her chin framing the young face with its dark -outline. Ten days of life and exercise in the open air had transformed -Mercèdes. - -“She’s never looked thus, Monsieur le Marquis, since she was a baby,” said -Marthe, “and I used to carry her out into the vineyards. I never could imagine -why from a brown rosy child she grew so pale; it’s air she wanted.” - -“Yes; I suppose so,” replied the Marquis carelessly, and then they descended -the bank and entered the boats. - -Charles Langlade sat in the stern behind Mercèdes, but he was silent. Had it -been summer-time the scenery up the stately river would have been lovely, but -winter still rested on all things. Not a green hue so much as tinged the black -branches of the trees; only the groves of pines, upon the summits of which the -snow still rested, gave colour to the landscape. They shot past the snowy fall -of Montmorenci, with its perpetual leaping avalanche, along the low shores of -the beautiful Isle of Orleans, where the wild grape festooned the primitive -forest, and won from old Cartier the name of the Isle of Bacchus. Here and -there villages clustered round slim-spired churches in the vales, or on some -gentle height; it was no longer the wild desolation of the forest, but the -gradual growth of civilisation creeping upon them, until at last Quebec with -its “mural-crowned” and castled rock rose before them. - -It had been decided that they should land just outside Quebec, rest for the -night at a farmhouse tenanted by friends of Charles Langlade, and enter the -city the following morning. It was almost dark when they reached their -destination, and as they left the boat and walked up to the farm, Charles -found himself beside Mercèdes and Marthe. - -“Mademoiselle,” he said, in a low tone, his voice trembling slightly, “I am -glad of this opportunity of wishing you adieu. I shall be far on my way to -join my tribe before the sun is risen to-morrow.” - -“Will you?” said Mercèdes. “I am so sorry; you have been so good to me. I wish -it were all to come over again. Cannot you go with us to Quebec?” - -“Thank you,” he answered; “your words give me great happiness. I can go no -farther with you now, but it will not be long before we meet again, I trust.” - -“Meet again!” answered Mercèdes; and if he could have looked into her face he -would have seen a shadow cross it. “Who can tell? It is not very likely we -shall meet again. I am going to the Convent of St. Ursula to be a nun.” - -“Ah no!” he exclaimed; “you must not; you are too brave and good to shut -yourself away from the world.” - -“But I must,” she said; “it was decided long ago, when I was a child.” - -He made no answer, but set his teeth hard. - -“Adieu, Mademoiselle,” he murmured; then caught her hand, raised it to his -lips, dropped it, and was gone. - -Mercèdes stood still with a pained feeling at her heart, and a regretful -longing for the world which had suddenly become so pleasant in her eyes. She -drew a short, impatient sigh. - -“Come, Marthe,” she said; “my father will be wondering why we linger;” and -they hurried forward. - -“He need not have bidden me adieu to-night,” she thought, when an hour later -she stood at the window of the room which had been allotted for her use, and -looked up at the sky, brilliant with myriads of stars. She could not guess -that he was gazing up at her from behind the garden fence--the star of his -life, although he knew it not. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -TRUE MEN - - -“Loïs, there are five or six men on horseback just come up through the -village; they are outside the gate, and are asking for Roger. Where’s mother?” -and Marie Langlade dashed into the kitchen, where Loïs, her sleeves tucked up -above the elbows, was busy kneading the bread. - -“Roger won’t be back till to-morrow; he’s gone up country with Stark and -Bradstreet after some cattle which are missing. There was a rumour of the -Indians having been seen down the river, and he’s gone to reconnoitre. Mother -is with Mistress Cleveland; she was ailing, and sent Charlie up to ask her to -come down. She went an hour ago.” - -“Then you must come out and speak to the strangers,” said Marie. “They are -different from the men who usually come this way; they are neither hunters nor -merchants, and they sit so straight on their horses and look so grand, and -their speech is soft and pleasant.” - -“I will come,” said Loïs, smiling at the description; and taking her hands out -of the kneading-trough, she quickly washed them, drew down her sleeves, and -went out into the porch, followed by Marie. - -They were a great contrast, those two sisters,--Loïs in the dawn of early -womanhood, with her soft dark hair and rich, ripe complexion, quiet and -composed, as eldest daughters, upon whom tired mothers are often wont to shift -a portion of their burdens, frequently are; whilst Marie was not yet -seventeen, and fair as a northern maiden, with rippling golden-hued hair, a -rose-leaf complexion, forget-me-not blue eyes; not beautiful in feature, but -fresh and pure and lovable. Very pleasant they looked as they came out -together, and at sight of them the foremost horseman sprang to the ground, -opened the garden gate, and, doffing his military cap, came towards them. - -“You are asking, my sister tells me, for Roger Boscowen,” said Loïs, returning -his salute. “He is not at home; he is gone on an expedition, and will not be -back for some days perhaps; we can never tell how long he may absent himself.” - -“I am sorry,” said the stranger, in a rich, musical voice, and with an accent -which told Loïs that he was no colonist, but an Englishman fresh from the old -country; “doubtless,” he continued, “there is some inn where we can put up our -horses and remain until his return?” - -“Oh, yes,” answered Loïs; “but if you have come on business to Roger, you had -better wait and see Father Nat. You look travel-stained; have you come from -far?” - -“We have come all the way from Albany,” answered the stranger, smiling -pleasantly, “and we wish to take up our abode in your village--at least, for a -time.” - -“Indeed,” said Loïs, looking surprised; but too modest to question him -further, she added, “If you will go with your men to the house yonder I will -send for Father Nat, and you can explain your business to him.” - -“But is not this Roger Boscowen’s house?” asked the traveller. - -“No,” said Loïs; “this is Alpha Marsh, the Langlades’ homestead; the Boscowens -live next door at Omega Marsh. But indeed it is much the same, only as you ask -for Roger you had better go to his own place. I will send men to take your -horses, and Nokomis will provide refreshments for your men.” She bent her head -with a certain stately grace, and re-entered the house. - -“Quick, Marie,” she said; “find Jim and tell him to go in search of Father -Nat, and let him know of the arrival of the new-comers. I will go round to -Nokomis and see that she deals out proper hospitality; she is not over given -to generosity.” - -Half an hour later the strangers were seated in Omega Marsh kitchen, partaking -of a plentiful meal, which was rendered still more palatable served as it was -by two such handmaids as Loïs and Marie. Father Nat had returned in haste when -he heard of the arrival of the strangers, but he would not allow their chief -to enter into any explanations until he had refreshed himself. - -They were five in number: four men in the prime of life, and one lad of -seventeen, whom Nathaniel recognised immediately as the son of an old -acquaintance, William Parkmann, of Massachusetts. He was a mere boy in -appearance, unusually tall and lanky, overgrown one might say, with an almost -girl’s face--he looked so very young: yet there was no lack of character in -it; the mouth and chin were firm, and the hazel eyes intelligent and even -searching. - -When the supper was cleared away, and the jar of tobacco and long clay pipes -had been placed upon the table, the evident leader of the party turned to -Nathaniel, and said with infinite courtesy,-- - -“After having partaken of your generous hospitality, it is time we introduced -ourselves to you, my host; especially as it is our intention to remain some -time in the settlement, if you will suffer us to do so.” - -“Why should I hinder you? If I mistake not, you are officers in his Gracious -Majesty’s army,” said Nathaniel. - -“You have guessed rightly,” answered the same speaker. “I am Brigadier Howe, -and my companions are Lieutenants Pringle, Philips, and Roche. I need scarcely -tell you the importance of the struggle going on between France and England; -it has not yet reached its height, but it will ere long, and it behoves us all -to be prepared to fight to the best of our abilities for our country and her -honour. I am of opinion that the ordinary system of European warfare will -prove a failure when pitted against Indian and Canadian fighting; and unless -we can acquire some practical knowledge of their tactics, we run a very great -chance of being worsted. For the last three years you have suffered frightful -aggressions along the borderland from the Indians and French, and have only -been protected by the courage and abilities of your volunteer men, your -Rangers, as they are called, whose captain, Roger the Ranger, is, I believe, -your son. His name is in everybody’s mouth as the man of all others the most -capable of rendering assistance to the colony in its present straits. Thirley, -the Governor of Massachusetts, and William Johnson, of New York, Commander of -the Massachusetts Volunteers, cannot say too much in his favour; and therefore -we four officers of his Majesty’s army have come to him with a request that, -during the present winter, he will enroll us as members of his corps of -Rangers, subject us to their training, and allow us to accompany him on all -his expeditions; thus we shall learn forest warfare and the ways of the enemy, -and know how to deal with them. Your son will be doing inestimable service to -the regular army by thus initiating us. Do you think he will consent to do -this?” - -“I cannot say,” answered Nathaniel. “My son has thrown himself heart and soul -into the defence of the colony. But for his fame I scarcely think our -settlement would have remained so long unmolested. You are acquainted with the -frightful rapine and murder which the red warriors have committed in the -border settlements of Virginia and Pennsylvania. The Quakers even, much -against their will, have been driven into passing a militia law, by the sight -of the bodies of the massacred men paraded about the streets of Philadelphia. -Massachusetts has been foremost in resisting French and Indian aggression, and -has taken the lead in the preparation for war. I have heard Roger say that the -British army, disciplined as it is, and with officers of unrivalled bravery, -will, from their ignorance of the country and of the style of warfare, be -subject to many reverses. I think he would approve of your plan, but you must -await his return; he will answer you himself.” - -“We are quite willing to remain here,” answered Brigadier Howe, “if you will -tell us where we can put up.” - -Nathaniel smiled. “You are unacquainted with our New England hospitality,” he -said. “We never turn a stranger from our door; we deem it would bring us -ill-fortune. The Lord has sent you hither, and until your business with Roger -be settled, your place is laid for you at my table and the guest-chamber is at -your service.” - -“But we are so numerous, and our horses will encumber your stables,” said the -Brigadier. - -“What Omega cannot accomplish Alpha will,” he answered quietly. “The Boscowens -and Langlades, though they live each under different roofs, form but one -household: it has been so for over four generations.” - -“If such hospitality be amongst your traditions, far be it from me to gainsay -you,” said the Brigadier. “But that name of Langlade struck me just now. I -heard it lately at Albany; there was much talk of a Charles Langlade and a -certain La Corne, both of them French Canadians, who had joined the Indians, -taken squaw wives, and become of great importance in the tribes. Surely that -Langlade has no connection with this family?” - -Nathaniel’s brow darkened. - -“Speak not of it,” he said sternly. “He is our eldest son. Above all things do -not utter his name before Roger; they were as brothers, and he has become a -thorn in his flesh.” - -He had hardly finished speaking when the door opened, and Martha, accompanied -by the minister and his wife, entered. Mistress Cleveland’s ailments were -frequent, but never of a very serious nature--often little more than an excuse -for sending to Alpha Marsh and getting Martha Langlade down for a good day’s -gossip. When, therefore, the news came that strangers had arrived, she -declared herself quite equal to the exertion of accompanying her husband and -Martha--indeed, the walk she felt sure would be beneficial to her; and so they -set forth together, curious to know who the newcomers might be. Marcus and -the younger members of the family soon followed, so that the kitchen was full; -and the murmur of many voices and occasional laughter struck pleasantly on the -ear. - -Marcus, though some years older, promptly made friends with William Parkmann, -and heard with interest all that was going on in the States. - -The young man spoke with enthusiastic affection of Brigadier Howe; to his -young imagination he was evidently a hero. - -“He will save the colonies,” he affirmed, “because he’s young and goes to work -in the right way. He is not likely to fall into an ambuscade, as General -Braddock did.” - -“We will hope not,” said Marcus; “one such experience is sufficient.” - -“I wish you would talk of something besides fighting and Indians,” said Marie, -leaning her elbows on the table. “It is the same thing every day. I am so -tired of it.” - -“I am afraid you will be much more tired before it is over, Marie,” said her -brother; “the great struggle has yet to come. One thing is certain, French and -English cannot live together as neighbours unless the former will take the -oath of allegiance, and that their priests will never allow them to do.” - -“I hope we shall never hear again of anything so dreadful as the expulsion -from Grandpré two years ago,” said Loïs. “Fancy husbands and wives, parents -and children, torn away from each other, sent hundreds of miles apart, never -to meet again! That seems to me worse than death; the yearning and the -longing, the never-ceasing anxiety, must be so very terrible!” and tears -filled her eyes, whilst her voice trembled with emotion. - -“Yes, worse than death,” said a low, deep voice behind her. “Death means -peace, reunion, love. Why should we fear it, if we but remember His promise, -‘_Fear not_, I am with thee’?” Loïs turned round, and met the kindly eyes of -Brigadier Howe bent on her. - -“Yes,” she answered, “there are many worse things than death--this continuous -warfare, the horrors of the savages, brother warring against brother. Oh! when -will it end? when shall we have peace?” and the tears which she had striven to -restrain rolled down her face. - -“There, there, Loïs,” said Marcus soothingly. “It will come in due time; we -are all striving after it.” - -“The war is drawing to a close,” said Brigadier Howe. “England has taken up -the gauntlet in good earnest at last; William Pitt is at the helm, and he will -not rest until Canada is a settled English Protestant colony.” - -“Amen,” said Minister Cleveland; “and now, mistress, it’s time we went home; -it is getting late, and the travellers will be glad to go to rest. Good-night -to you all,” and there was a great hand-shaking. Loïs helped Mistress -Cleveland on with her cloak and hood, commending her to be careful not to take -a chill; then the lantern was lit, and the young people trooped down to the -gate to start them on their way home. Martha took this opportunity of speaking -to Father Nat. - -“You must not take all the five guests, father,” she said; “have you forgotten -that we also have our guest-chamber?” and she drew herself up with dignity. - -“Not likely I should forget,” he answered; “choose which of them you will -have, Martha, or shall they cast lots? Women rule the roost here, sir, as they -do elsewhere,” he said, turning to Howe. “Mistress Martha will have it she has -a right to the honour of entertaining some of your party; you went to her gate -first, it seems.” - -“True,” said Howe, smiling. “We are flattered by your desire, madam. We think -there is one amongst us who has already found a flame, and is trying to singe -his wings; if she lead the way, he will not refuse to follow,” and as he spoke -he looked towards where Marie and William Parkmann were talking to each other. - -“Tut!” said Martha. “Marie’s only a child.” - -“To our mothers we are always children,” said Howe sweetly. - -“He’s a nice lad,” said Martha kindly; “let him come, and one other.” - -“The young with the young,” said Howe, smiling. “What do you say to Roche?” - -“He is welcome,” said Martha, smiling. - -“Roche and Parkmann,” said Howe, speaking with a tone of military command, -“you are billeted on Dame Martha Langlade.” - -“Very good, sir,” answered the two young men gladly. - -A general move followed, good-nights were exchanged, Marcus helped Father Nat -show his guests to their rooms, and then they all separated; only Father Nat -and Brigadier Howe remained in the chimney corner. - -“If you’ve no objection, we’ll smoke one pipe together before we part company, -Father Nat. I am anxious to ask you a few questions,” said Howe. - -“You can ask,” answered the father; “maybe I’ll answer you, maybe I won’t.” - -“I think you will answer me,” said Howe gently, as he filled his pipe from the -jar of tobacco Father Nat pushed towards him. Stooping, he picked an ember out -of the hearth and lit it, and then he leant back thoughtfully in the old -armchair as the white smoke slowly curled up the wide open chimney. - - - - -CHAPTER X - -A NEW FRIENDSHIP - - -“What I am about to ask you is from no idle curiosity, but because my interest -has been aroused for some time past by all I have heard of your son and his -exploits. He is spoken of as a hard man, a splendid disciplinarian, reckless -of his own life, fearing neither God nor man, with but one object in life--the -driving of the Indian and the French out of the country. Is this so?” - -A moment’s hesitation, then Father Nat answered: “It is true. Until three -years ago there was not a more God-fearing, braver, brighter lad along the -length and breadth of the New England border than Roger Boscowen. He and -Charles Langlade were cited as model young men; there were no better farmers, -no better hunters than they, and their conduct was irreproachable. I seem to -hear them still whistling as they went and came about the place. Roger is my -only child, and somehow it grew to be a sort of accepted thing that in due -time he should marry Loïs. You saw her to-day, the eldest Langlade girl; a -sweeter woman it would be impossible to find on the face of the earth. They -were very fond of each other: when the young men were at home the three were -always together. Ah! those were happy days; but from the hour Charles Langlade -left his home the change began. Roger struggled against it at first; but after -the affair at Miamis, in which Old Britain was killed and Roger nearly met his -death by the hand of Charles himself, he has been a changed man, sombre and -stern. He told Loïs in a few words that all was over between them. What -actually passed no one knows, but since that day, beyond a simple ‘good day’ -or ‘good evening,’ they have never been seen to speak together. He has never -recrossed the threshold of Alpha Marsh, and when he is at Omega Marsh, neither -her mother nor Loïs comes here. He endures the younger ones, but he seldom -looks at or speaks with them. He is rarely at home, and has not been to chapel -for more than three years. When the minister would have exhorted him, he -turned away with a bitter laugh. His heart is hardened, his whole nature is -changed!” - -And Nat shook the ashes out of his pipe and relapsed into silence. - -“It is a sad story; something I had heard of it before coming here,” said -Howe. “But cheer up, father. God’s ways are not man’s ways: it is hard for us -to understand His dealings with us,--better not try; better in simple faith -believe that what ‘He doeth is well done.’ I have heard Roger’s exploits -spoken of as something marvellous. His knowledge of Indian warfare is so -perfect that it is almost impossible for them to waylay him. It is averred -that he could conduct an army through the forest on the darkest night. -Probably had he continued to lead the life of an ordinary hunter he would -never have attained this degree of perfection; and we need such a man now. -Surely God has raised him up for our deliverance.” - -“Maybe, maybe,” answered Father Nat; “Loïs has said as much, and she is -far-sighted.” - -“She seems a right noble woman,” said Howe. “Has she taken Roger’s desertion -much to heart?” - -“You have seen her; does she look like a love-sick girl?” said Father Nat, -almost indignantly. “Nay, nay; our Loïs is a brave, God-fearing maiden. She -never even winced at the pain he gave her, but went about her work as if -naught had happened. And she has never changed; she keeps my house in order, -and is her mother’s right hand. No one ever touches Roger’s things but -herself; she comes and goes from early morning till late at night, and there -is no shadow on her brow. Ah, she’s a bonnie woman, God bless her!” and Father -Nat’s voice was husky. - -“Truly she must be,” answered Howe; and, remembering the words she had spoken, -“There are many things worse than death,” he recognised that here, at least, -was one who had early learnt the lesson “to suffer and be strong.” - -Suddenly the silence was broken by the loud barking of dogs, and men’s steps -were heard coming across the courtyard, followed by a shrill whistle. - -“It’s Roger!” said Nathaniel, rising. “I never thought he’d be back so soon; -either he has found the rumours false or he wants more men.” - -He left the kitchen, and Howe heard the back door unbarred, and by the sounds -he could guess that three or four men had entered the house. They conversed -for some time in low voices; then there was a clatter of knives and forks. The -officer felt his presence was causing inconvenience; yet he sat on, so intense -was his desire to see this man of whom he had heard so much. - -His patience was rewarded after a time; he heard leave-taking, and the outer -door open and shut. A few minutes after Father Nat reappeared, and behind him -towered a man of unusual height, broad-shouldered, large-limbed, dressed in a -plain grey hunting suit with tan-leather leggings. His face was rough-hewn, -cut in a large mould; hair and beard, both of a reddish hue, were cropped -close; his eyes were of that peculiarly dark grey showing blue in some lights, -and black when the feelings were wrought to an unusual pitch. In childhood and -youth they had been remarkable for their brightness, now at most times they -were sombre with a lurid light. Taken as a whole, it was a passionate face, as -of a man at war with himself and with the world. His brow was broad and -massive; there was intellect and strength in every line; but the predominant -expression was one of pain, of suffering, of revolt, indicated more especially -by the two deep lines between his eyebrows. He went straight across the room -and held out his hand to Howe, who rose and came forward to meet him. - -“My father has told me your purpose,” he said, “and I know who you are. I will -not insult you by asking you if you really mean to subject yourself to such -training; you have said it, that is enough. If, when you have tried it for one -month, you or your companions find yourselves physically unequal to withstand -the hardships of such a life, you can stop; you will at all events have learnt -enough to help you to avoid the mistakes which have already been made, and -which have proved so disastrous.” - -“That is just what I desire,” answered Howe; “and I need say no more, for I -see you recognise how important it is that we British officers should have the -knowledge necessary to enable us to discipline and command our men in this new -warfare.” - -“I do fully; I have thought so for a long time. I have often wondered why you -failed to take steps to acquire that knowledge,” answered Roger. - -“Because officers are scarce,” said Howe. “I have at last, with difficulty, -obtained the leave necessary to permit me to join your scouting parties this -winter. In the spring, of course, we shall have active engagements, and, I -hope, soon make an end of the war. Pitt is determined to carry things with a -high hand, and is sending out reinforcements, whereas France is satisfied to -leave everything to her general; and though Montcalm is a splendid officer, -and the Canadians and Indians are devoted to him, he must in the long run give -in, unless he receives fresh troops from home.” - -“Which is not likely,” answered Roger, seating himself, and throwing a fresh -log of wood on the dying embers. - -Brigadier Howe was at this time three-and-thirty years of age--nearly six -years Roger’s senior, but he looked much younger. They represented two -distinct types: the delicately nurtured, high-bred Englishman, with less -actual physical strength than his New England brother, but possessed of an -equal power of endurance, because of the stronger moral principle, the higher -spiritual and mental perfection to which he had attained, bringing the body -into subjection. - -That night those two sat long over the fire. Father Nat wisely left them -together; and when they parted both recognised in the other a kindred soul. -Their interests were in common, their object the same: the conquest of Canada, -the driving out of an alien power; only the incentives differed. Brigadier -Howe fought for England and for the Protestant faith, Roger because he hated -the Indian and the Canadian. No personal feelings animated Howe; with Roger -they were entirely personal--vengeance for the loss of his friend, and hatred -because of the pain that loss inflicted on him. Neither of them recognised -these shades of difference; their aim, and the end they had in view, united -them, and they were both satisfied with each other. - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -DIPLOMACY - - -“Monsieur, it is quite impossible for us to allow you to carry such a plan -into execution. If you are barbarous enough to even dream of shutting this -poor child up in a convent, give her time at least first to live and to enjoy -her youth. New France is not like old France: we are not over-burdened with -young maidens here; indeed, they are greatly in request!” - -The speaker, Madame Péan, was a very beautiful woman, a Canadian by birth, who -had married a French officer, Major Péan, and because of her beauty was the -acknowledged leader of fashion in Quebec. All the world bowed down before her, -from the Governor, the Marquis de Vaudreuil, to the ugly hunchback Maurier, -the ally of the two men, Bigot and Varin, who for some time past had been -growing rich on the misery of Canada. - -Immediately upon his arrival at Quebec Montcalm had been introduced to Madame -Péan, and was astonished to find there a _salon_ which might have rivalled any -at Versailles. “The ladies are graceful and elegant,” he wrote to his wife, -“and by no means behind the fashion.” Having heard that Mercèdes had -accompanied her father, Madame Péan took the first opportunity which offered -to ask the General if he would bring his daughter to one of her receptions, to -which request he replied by saying that Mercèdes would not go into society, -that when he left Quebec for his first campaign, which would be in the course -of the next fortnight, she would enter the Convent of the Ursulines. - -“She came over with me,” he said, “that I might have the consolation of seeing -her from time to time during my exile, and as her vocation was a religious -life it mattered little whether she followed it in the new or the old -country.” - -It was this speech which had called forth Madame Péan’s somewhat indignant -protest. - -“But, Madame,” answered the General, “my daughter is very young, and is only -accompanied by her nurse. I cannot look after her. I shall not even have an -establishment in Quebec; my duties will call me here, there, and everywhere. I -shall live with my soldiers. What would you have me do with a young girl under -such circumstances?” - -Madame Péan laughed, such a pleasant, easy laugh, and, seating herself, signed -the General to take a place on the sofa beside her. - -“Certainly those are difficulties,” she said, “but by no means insurmountable. -Tell me honestly, General, would you have any objection to a rich husband for -your daughter, if one could be found?” - -“I have never thought of such a thing. Mercèdes has always been our little -nun,” he answered. - -“But would you object?” she persisted. - -“Not if the child wished it, and if, besides being rich, the man were -honourable and of good family,” said the General. - -“Leave that to me,” answered the lady. “You must let your ‘little nun,’ as you -call her, take up her abode under my roof during your absence, General. It -will be quite the right thing. This is a great barrack of a place, and there -are three empty rooms just above my own apartments; now I think of it, they -overlook the gardens of the Ursulines. She can contemplate at her leisure her -future abode, in case my matrimonial scheme should fail, which I do not think -probable; I am proverbially fortunate,” and she tossed her fair head and -smiled with conscious power. - -“I cannot sufficiently thank you for the interest you take in my daughter,” -answered Montcalm. “I will consider the matter, and, if you will allow me, -will bring you my answer to-morrow at this same hour; in any case, my daughter -shall tender you her thanks in person.” He rose, and bowed low before the -reigning beauty; she smiled graciously, and extended her hand, which, -according to the custom of those days, he raised to his lips; then once more -bowing, he withdrew to make room for others who were waiting to pay their -homage, for Madame Péan held a mimic court, and it was rumoured, indeed, that -with many in high places her word was law. - -The General did not remain long in the _salons_, and as soon as he had -disappeared there arose an excited murmur in the group surrounding Madame -Péan. She rose. “You will never tell me again I am no diplomate, Monsieur,” -she said, turning to the Marquis de Vaudreuil. - -The Governor smiled. “Who is your last conquest, Madame?” he said. “Not -Montcalm? He is as impregnable as Quebec itself!” - -“We shall see,” said the lady. “There is a weak point in every fortress. Have -you heard that he has been mad enough to bring a daughter out here, to make -her a nun at the Ursulines opposite?” - -“And you are bent upon frustrating such pious designs?” said the Intendant -Bigot, who, notwithstanding his unprepossessing appearance, managed to -ingratiate himself with all sorts and conditions of men; and by his lavish -hospitality and readiness to oblige was able with impunity to plunder the -populace and secure for himself and his friends immense fortunes. It is -affirmed that one company, with which Major Péan, the husband of the fair lady -we have just introduced to our readers, was associated, made in the course of -one year a net profit of twelve millions. This was done, to a great extent, by -monopolies. Bigot, himself a native of Bordeaux, traded under the name of -Clavarie with the firm of Gradis & Son of that city. He was known to have made -a colossal fortune, and lived with royal splendour, dispensing lavish -hospitality at the king’s expense. - -General Montcalm was too new a comer, and himself of a too spotless integrity, -to even suspect such dealings; he had already been made aware that the -Governor and native authorities of Canada viewed him with jealous suspicion, -as a stranger and an intruder. They did not recognise the necessity of his -presence amongst them. The Governor was especially irate at having to yield -precedence to him in military matters; but the General was determined to do -his utmost to conciliate all parties, and he was ably seconded by his first -and second officers, the Chevaliers Levis and Bougainville. - -In answer to Bigot’s half-mocking query, Madame Péan nodded her head, and the -sparkling face laughed acquiescence. - -“I should rather think so,” she said. “I mean to have and to hold her as a -fair hostage. When the war is over, and the Marquis sails from our coast, we -will let her go home, or to the convent, unless she become one of ourselves.” - -“Not a bad idea,” said her husband, curling his moustache, “and you are quite -capable of carrying it into effect.” - -“What Madame wills the gods prosper,” said Bigot gallantly. “Has any one seen -the new importation?” - -“I caught sight of a little sallow-faced girl, with big black eyes, walking -with the General and Charles Langlade in the lower town yesterday,” said a -young officer. - -“Did not Charles Langlade bring the whole party across country to Quebec?” -asked Bigot. - -“Yes,” answered the Governor; “Montcalm would not wait till the ships could -get up the St. Lawrence, so he hurried on in front. He’s in a perfect fever to -begin operations.” - -“He will learn to take things more quietly presently,” said Bigot. “In the -meantime, let Madame take the little girl in hand. According to the natural -course of events, she and Charles Langlade ought to have managed to fall in -love with each other during their somewhat rough excursion across country. If -they have, that will be another string to our bow; if they have not--well, -dear Madame, you must manage that they should.” - -“And Charles Langlade’s squaw?” said Madame. - -“Oh, she would be easily disposed of,” said Bigot carelessly. - -And then, as if the subject had grown unpleasant to him, he changed the -conversation. - -In the meantime the General went slowly and thoughtfully through the narrow, -tortuous streets, past the magnificent Jesuit College on one side and the -Ursuline Convent on the other. He was feeling depressed; his reception by the -authorities had by no means been as hearty as he had been led to expect, and -this new proposition concerning Mercèdes also worried him. - -“I should have done better to leave the child at home,” he thought. - -At that moment he was met by Chevalier Levis, who had arrived with the troops, -and was camped outside the town in the plain of Montmorenci. - -“Well, General,” he said gaily, “are things going pretty smoothly?” - -“By no means,” answered Montcalm; “at every step I find impediments in my way. -These Canadians take life easily; while the Indians and the English are -fighting for dominion, they seem to think nothing of so great importance as -balls and picnics.” - -“All that will change before long,” said the Chevalier cheerfully. “You cannot -expect everybody to view events as seriously as you do, General. I certainly -am agreeably surprised. I did not expect to find such pleasant society and -such pretty women in Quebec; but you are above such trifles! Still, if you -will allow me to say it, do you not think it would be wise to conciliate the -powers that be?” - -“As far as possible I most certainly do,” answered Montcalm. “A proposition -has just been made me which puts me in an awkward position. If I refuse I am -afraid I shall give great offence, and yet I am unwilling to agree to it.” - -“What is it?” asked the Chevalier. - -They were entering the Rue St. Louis, in which street the General had taken a -small, one-storied house; here he had settled Mercèdes and her nurse for the -time being at least. - -“If you will come in I will tell you; your opinion may help me to decide,” he -said. - -A few minutes later they were seated in a plainly furnished room, the -principal ornament of which was the large white porcelain stove used to warm -the apartment during the severe Canadian winters. - -In a few words the General told Levis his conversation with Madame Péan. “Do -you think it possible for me to leave Mercèdes in her charge? You must -remember the child is utterly ignorant of the world, and it seems to me it is -a very gay world here in Quebec, notwithstanding the war.” - -“You cannot afford to offend Madame Péan” answered Levis; “she is a power in -herself, like others at Versailles. Her _salon_ is the centre of every -intrigue; her will is law. It will not harm Mademoiselle Mercèdes to spend the -next few months under the same roof as Madame Péan, and to take her share in -the gaieties. It will be time enough when you return in September for her to -take up her abode at the Ursulines, if she be still so minded. At least, you -might explain the position to her, and let her decide for herself.” - -“And if Mercèdes refuses the invitation, how shall I explain the fact -satisfactorily to Madame without incurring her anger?” asked Montcalm. - -“Mademoiselle is to call on Madame herself to-morrow, I believe; let her -explain,” said Levis. “But I am very much mistaken if she refuse to accept the -offer.” - -“I will call her,” said Montcalm. - -He did so, and at the sound of his voice Mercèdes came running into the room. - -“Have you been in long, father?” she asked, as he kissed her brow. - -“No, my child,” he said. “But I have something of importance to say to you, -Mercèdes; and, remember, before you decide one way or the other you must -reflect seriously.” - -He had reseated himself, and, putting his arm round her, drew her towards him. - -“It was settled that before I left Quebec you should go to the Ursulines. -Supposing I thought it better to delay your entering the convent, would it -grieve you very much, my daughter?” - -Mercèdes looked at him with surprise. “Where else should I go, my father? I -could not remain here alone,” she said. - -“I do not suppose you could,” he answered. “This is what has happened,” and he -explained to her his interview with Madame Péan. “She is a very great lady, -and much considered here in Quebec,” he said. “I do not wish to offend her, -and yet I honestly tell you, Mercèdes, you will have to be very circumspect in -your conduct. You will be like a lamb in the midst of wolves, I am afraid.” - -“You need not be afraid for me,” said Mercèdes. “If it be useful to you that I -should go to this lady, I am quite willing; Marthe will, of course, be with -me, and I shall only await your return.” - -A sense of relief came over the General. He had so much to combat with the -men, that he had felt very loth to incur female wrath. - -“Then it is settled,” he said, “and I am very glad; to-morrow I will introduce -you. I am afraid, however, you are badly off for fine clothes, my little nun: -it would be well for you to sally forth with Marthe and purchase what is -needful; it will not do for you to appear in beggarly fashion before all these -fine ladies. Are you not of my opinion, Chevalier?” - -“Assuredly. Mademoiselle Mercèdes represents Versailles here at Quebec,” he -answered, smiling. - -“I never was at Versailles, and never expect to go there,” said the young -girl, laughing. “I should be terrified. But here there is neither king nor -queen. These people are not even noble,” she said, with a touch of old -aristocratic pride. - -“True, my Mercèdes,” answered her father, smiling; “but you must not tell them -so.” - -“I understand,” she answered; “and now, if you will give me a few louis, I -will buy what is necessary for me to have, so that I may do you credit. I only -wish I were beautiful, like my sisters.” - -“It is as well, perhaps, that you are not,” thought her father, giving her the -gold she asked for; then she embraced him, bowed to the Chevalier Levis, and -left the room. - -It was with a certain degree of excitement that Mercèdes started on her -expedition. As far as she was concerned, dress had always been a very minor -consideration. She did not belong to the world, and therefore anything was -good enough for her--mostly her mother’s or sisters’ left-off clothing; but -she had a French-woman’s natural knack for arranging them, and so not -unfrequently her sisters observed that Mercèdes looked better in old clothes -than they did in new ones. She felt half guilty also at the fact that she was -not more sorry at the delay occasioned by these new plans to her entering the -convent; but she satisfied her conscience by the fact that it was her father’s -will. As she and Marthe went quickly towards the upper town, where she -believed the best stores were to be found, she was suddenly aware of a tall -figure coming towards her, stopping in front of them, and saying, -“Mademoiselle, where are you thus hurrying?” - -“Monsieur Langlade,” she answered, holding out her hand, “we have met just in -time for you to tell me the best stores for stuffs; we are at a loss.” - -“Why, Mademoiselle, are you going to the ball at the Intendance? I thought you -were to retire to the Ursulines as soon as the General left Quebec.” - -“My father has decided otherwise,” answered Mercèdes. “I am going to be the -guest of Madame Péan during his absence.” - -Charles Langlade started, hesitated for a moment, then he asked,-- - -“What is the reason of this sudden change?” - -“That I cannot tell you,” answered Mercèdes. “My father does not, apparently, -wish to give offence, which, if he refuse to allow me to accept Madame Péan’s -invitation, he most certainly will. After all, it will not make much -difference; it is the case of a few months only. But I have to buy clothes and -make myself generally fitted to properly represent the family--a difficult and -unexpected task.” - -“Which you will surely accomplish creditably,” answered Charles, “as you will -anything you set your heart on doing.” - -“I am glad you have such a good opinion of me,” answered Mercèdes. “I shall -certainly try, for my dear father’s sake. And now, where can I go to make my -purchases?” - -“Having no womankind of my own to clothe in fashionable attire, I am somewhat -at a loss,” said Charles. “But if you will follow me I think I know a good -draper who will sell you stuffs, and may perhaps be able to direct you where -to go for your other purchases.” - -So saying, he preceded them through the tortuous thoroughfares of the lower -town, and in a side street came to a quaint old wooden house, the upper story -projecting over the basement, throwing a deep shadow over the interior of what -proved to be the storehouse. - -Charles Langlade spoke a few words in a low voice to the master, who came -forward, the result of which was that he bowed low before Mercèdes, assuring -her that his poor store was highly honoured by her patronage, which, being -unaccustomed to such homage, disconcerted her not a little. Charles Langlade, -feeling his presence was no longer needed, took his leave, if truth be told, -with a strangely lightened heart at the thought that Mercèdes was not so soon -to disappear behind the Convent walls. - -Not till the store man asked Mercèdes what she desired, did she at all realise -the difficulties which lay before her. She looked helplessly at the rich -stuffs he spread out on the counter, seeing which he smiled. “Mademoiselle is -not accustomed to make purchases for herself,” he said. “Shall I fetch my wife -or daughter? They are in the habit of dressing the great ladies of Quebec, and -will know exactly what it is desirable for the daughter of our General to -wear.” - -“Do, I pray you,” said Mercèdes; and a few minutes later Madame Thomas -appeared with a young girl, two or three years older than Mercèdes, both of -them excited and delighted at the sight of the General’s daughter. Madame was -perfectly at home in her business, and, besides, she was motherly, with such -pleasant, homely ways that Mercèdes exclaimed at last,-- - -“You had better send me just what you think right and proper. I must spend as -little as possible, for my father is not rich, and has many expenses; you will -please to bear that in mind. If you could let me have a visiting costume -to-morrow, I should be glad. I am to pay my first visit to the Intendance.” - -“Mademoiselle, if we sit up all night, you shall have everything you require. -Are you not our General’s daughter, whom it is our duty as well as our -pleasure to serve?” answered Madame Thomas. “Annette shall herself bring you -your costume, and if you will allow her she will wait and dress you.” - -“A thousand thanks,” said Mercèdes, with her bright, winning smile. “Now I am -quite at rest. Remember, everything is to be plain, very plain. I have come to -Canada to be a nun at the Convent of the Ursulines; it is only for a little -while I am going into the world.” - -“Ah, Mademoiselle, I shall be much surprised if some gallant gentleman does -not succeed in making you change your mind,” said Madame Thomas. - -“Oh no, indeed,” answered Mercèdes, blushing; and with a pleasant adieu she -left the stores and went home to the little house in St. Louis Street, feeling -as if a strange new life were opening out before her. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -A TERRIBLE DISASTER - - -It did not take the English officers and William Parkmann long to settle down -in their new home; the life was so free and easy. Before they had been a week -at Marshwood they knew and were known of the whole colony, and were immense -favourites. The dangers which surrounded the colonists were becoming daily -more and more evident. Scarcely a week passed but what news came of villages -burnt and sacked, and of the atrocious cruelties perpetrated by the Indians. -So far Marshwood had been unmolested, owing, it was generally supposed, to -Roger’s renown and the number of scouts or Rangers always about. Roger began -at once to put the new recruits into training, taking them out into the -forests, and organising mimic fights. Brigadier Howe, as he chose to be -called, though Roger knew full well that his real title and rank were -Brigadier-General Lord Howe, was in right good earnest, and applied himself -thoroughly to the study of forest warfare. His companions followed his -example; they had their hair cut close like the Rangers, dressed themselves -after the same fashion, wearing leggings to protect them from the briers. As -soon as Roger considered them sufficiently trained, they accompanied him on -expeditions to the frontier; upon which occasions each man had to carry in his -knapsack thirty pounds of meat,--this being the only food they had to depend -upon, and which they cooked themselves,--one blanket, and a bearskin. - -Before the middle of November the snow lay thick upon the ground, and the -rivers were icebound. A great stillness seemed to descend upon the land, and -the Rangers dispersed to their homes, with the exception of a certain number -of scouts, who remained on guard. Roger was mostly with them, and Brigadier -Howe was always in his company. A great feeling of sympathy grew up between -the two men. Different as their characters were, yet they understood each -other, Howe’s gentle, energetic nature tending to soften and hold in check the -violence and strong-headedness of his companion. Roger learned to admire the -indomitable will which enabled this delicate nobleman, accustomed to all the -luxury and refinement of civilised life, to face the greatest hardships -willingly, and without a murmur. Nothing held him back; where Roger went he -went, always bright and cheery, seeming to have no thought of self. There was -an undercurrent running through his life which Roger was slow to recognise, -because he was unwilling to do so--namely, an unobtrusive piety. - -He made no religious boast, he was seldom heard to speak of those things which -were in very truth nearest his heart, but his daily life bore testimony to his -faith. A small pocket Bible was his never-failing companion, and often by the -camp fire, when his comrades lay sleeping, wrapped in their blankets and -bearskins, Roger watched him draw it forth, and by the flickering flame peruse -the sacred volume. - -Whenever it was possible, he coaxed Roger to cease warfare on the Sabbath Day, -and to return to Marshwood, often accomplishing the homeward journey under -very adverse circumstances and with great fatigue; but nevertheless he was -sure to be in his place in chapel, an attentive listener to John Cleveland’s -exhortations. The minister was his most devoted admirer, and declared to -Nathaniel that the Englishman’s example had worked a wonderful change on the -young men in the colony. Only Roger held aloof in sombre pride. Yet, -notwithstanding the coming danger which threatened them all, and which at any -moment might overtake them, it was impossible to check the natural enjoyment -which sprang up, the result of youth and health. The clear atmosphere was so -exhilarating that the young people could not remain within doors. Sleighing -parties, tobogganing, skating on the lakes and rivers, occupied every spare -minute of the short winter day. Shouts of merry laughter rang out on the -frosty air. All the inhabitants of the village would turn out on fine -afternoons, making their way in snowshoes down to the icebound river, and -there disporting themselves, sometimes till the moon and stars shone out; and -then back home to the warm kitchens and the hospitable boards. - -“We are having a fine time of it. I never had a finer in my life,” said young -William Parkmann, as he flew over the ice side by side with Marie Langlade. - -“Yes, we always have a good time in winter,” she answered; “but this year it -seems better than usual,” and she looked shyly at her companion. - -“I’m glad to hear you say that,” he answered. “I shall never forget how happy -I have been; and perhaps, Marie, when this war is over, if God spare my life, -I may come back and ask something of you!” and as he skated close up to her, -he slipped his arm into hers, and so bore her on even more rapidly than -before. There was joy for both of them at that moment in the mere fact of -living. The sun shone brightly on the glistening snow, which covered alike the -hills and plains, weighing down the branches of the forest trees; but to -William Parkmann Marie’s eyes shone brighter than the rays of the sun, and her -voice was very sweet, though somewhat serious, as she answered,-- - -“When the war is over, William Parkmann--not till then--must you ask or I -answer you aught.” - -“Let it be so,” he replied; and they skated on in happy silence, dreams of a -bright future dancing before their eyes. They were so young-- - - “Hope at the helm - And pleasure at the prow”-- - -they could not realise the possibility of a great disaster coming upon them; -but their elders both could and did. - -The head members of the settlement met every evening, and took counsel for the -general safety. To these meetings Howe was readily admitted; they were -generally held in the great kitchen of Omega Marsh, and Father Nathaniel -presided. He knew the ways of the Indians as well as his son, and patrols were -organised, and everything done to prevent a sudden surprise of the enemy. He -and John Cleveland and Marcus took the command of the home brigade, as they -called it, which consisted chiefly of youths, and of men past their prime; all -the really able-bodied men were enrolled in Roger’s corps of Rangers, and were -liable at any moment to be called into action. - -When the meeting dispersed, Father Nat and Brigadier Howe would open the -latchet gate which separated the two homesteads, and go over to Alpha Marsh -and sit with Martha and Loïs, who were always busy making and mending for the -two households. Howe watched Loïs as she went and came day after day, caring -for everybody, the young and the old, without apparently one selfish thought; -and he felt inclined to be angry with Roger for visiting upon this -inoffensive, brave-hearted woman the sorrow which had entered into his own -soul. She did not resent his conduct; to all outward appearance she was -indifferent to his comings or his goings, doing her daily work methodically, -interested in every one and in everything, from a sick baby in the village to -the last bit of news from Quebec or from the New England States. - -But news did not travel quickly in those days or in those parts, and the -winter was far advanced when they first heard of the taking of Fort William -Henry by the French. Some scouts of Roger’s arrived one night, with an account -of the frightful massacre by the Indians which had followed the surrender of -the fort. Montcalm and the French officers had been powerless to restrain -them. The English officer, Colonel Monro, who was in command of the fort, held -out as long as there was any hope of relief; but when General Webb from Fort -Edward failed to come to his assistance, and he found himself on all sides -surrounded by a French army commanded by Montcalm in person, hoping to avoid -unnecessary bloodshed, he hoisted the white flag. - -Montcalm thereupon summoned the Indian chiefs, and explained to them the -honourable terms of capitulation which he had agreed to, requesting their -adhesion to the same. They gave their consent, promising to restrain their -men; but no sooner had the garrison evacuated the fort than the Indians, drunk -with rum, rushed in a surging rabble, which, even if the French guards had -exerted themselves to their utmost--which they did not, owing either to fear -of the Indians or indifference--it would have been impossible to restrain. A -terrible scene of murder and rapine ensued. Montcalm tried to restore -tranquillity, and by evening some sort of order reigned in the terrified -fortress, and the Canadians, under their general, De la Corne, agreed to -conduct the English the following morning to Fort Edward. But a panic came -over the unfortunate inhabitants, and in their terror they started without -waiting for the escort. Instantly the Indians rushed down upon them, and an -indescribable scene of plunder followed. The savages carried off upwards of -two hundred prisoners, men and women, tomahawking and scalping hundreds more, -before the very eyes of De la Corne and his Canadians. - -Montcalm, Levis, and the French officers rushed down into the midst of the -fight, and, throwing themselves upon the English, positively tore them out of -the hands of the Indians. - -“Kill me, but spare the English, who are under my protection!” shouted -Montcalm, snatching a young officer away from a savage who had just seized -him, and covering him with his own body. - -Montcalm has been severely blamed for not ordering up the regular French army -to save the English; but being very inferior in number to the Indians and -Canadians, doubtless he considered that if he turned his arms against his -allies, the massacre would be even more sanguinary. - -This is partly proved by the fact that the column of the English army offered -no resistance: true, they had no ammunition; only a few of the colonial troops -had bayonets. Had they shown fight they would probably all have been -massacred; as it was, they were carried off alive by the savages, and later -Montcalm was able to recover five or six hundred. Some of the fugitives found -their way back to the fort; and all these were sent by Montcalm under a strong -escort to Fort Edward. The remnant of the column dispersed into the woods, and -found their way, after many days and great perils, to Fort Edward. - -“I am dishonoured,” said Montcalm that night, pacing up and down his tent, -brushing away the tears from his eyes. “The sights I have seen, the sounds I -have heard this day, will haunt me all my life long!” Nothing Chevalier Levis -or his other officers could say consoled him. He refused to see De la Corne or -any of the Canadian officers; only once he exclaimed, “If Charles Langlade had -been here, this dishonour would not have fallen upon me!” - -Such was the news which reached Marshwood. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -BRAVELY DONE - - -“I must leave at once,” said Lord Howe, “and make my way as best I can to -Louisburg. Loudon has failed in his attack on that place; but I am certain it -will be renewed without delay--therefore I will go there.” - -“I will take you; it is impossible for you to attempt the journey without a -proper escort; besides, we must push forward in the same direction,” said -Roger. “The Indians have tasted blood; we shall have them swarming by -thousands all over the land.” - -“I expect we shall,” said Howe. “When will you be ready to start?” - -“We are always ready,” answered Roger sternly; “make your own preparations, -and by dawn to-morrow we will be on our way;” and having so spoken he left the -house, and was not seen again till suppertime. - -Soon the whole settlement was astir. The indignation of the colonists was -unbounded, and they swore to be revenged. Before nightfall upwards of three -hundred men had taken to the woods, and scouts had been sent out in every -direction to call the Rangers together. Every precaution was taken to ensure -the safety of the settlement. Knowing they were watched, instead of going into -the woods by twenties, or even by tens, they went forth by twos and threes, -giving each other a wide berth; but each man was acquainted with the ultimate -place of meeting; besides, though apparently dispersing, they were within -rallying distance of each other, and knew the signal agreed upon. - -There was quiet weeping that night in many households. Marcus had entreated to -accompany Roger, but Martha interfered. “Not brother against brother,” she -said, clinging to him, with tears running down her face. - -“Stay, Marcus, my friend,” Lord Howe had said. “It may be that you will be -needed here more than you think for; it is not well to leave Father Nat alone -without a lieutenant;” and so Marcus remained. - -“I shall come back, Marie; don’t cry so, dear,” said William Parkmann, ready -to cry himself at sight of her grief. “As soon as the war is over John -Cleveland shall marry us, and, darling, I’ll take you right down to my -father’s house in Boston; and you shall never set eyes on these ugly savages -again if I can help it.” And stooping, he kissed the pretty, fair face of his -little sweetheart, as they stood together for the last time under the great -oak tree at the back of Alpha Marsh. - -Ah, when would those two meet again, and how? Well might they linger side by -side, the wings of their young love drooping sadly as they gazed through the -bare branches of the great tree up to the starry heavens. He led her back into -the house, and they parted at the foot of the staircase, he standing below -watching her, as slowly, with bowed head, she crawled up and up out of his -sight; then with a sigh he turned away. - -“Now I must be a man!” he said, and entered the kitchen, where his chief, -Brigadier Howe, and his companions, with Nathaniel, Roger, and others, were in -council. - - * * * * * - -“Roger!” - -It was still pitch dark, at that hour between night and morning when the light -of the moon and stars is dimmed and yet the sun has not risen. Roger had -opened the back door, and was passing out to go down to the village, having -forgotten the night before to order three canoes to be in readiness in case of -need. He started when he heard himself called. How long had Loïs been waiting -there for him? and how could she know he would come out? - -“What is it you want?” he asked, in a low, hard voice. - -“Roger, I have been warned; you and your party are watched. The danger is -great; do not go forth.” - -He laughed. “What nonsense, Loïs! Brigadier Howe must go, and I must accompany -him; he is my guest. Tell your informant he must have forgotten the laws of -honour, or he would not have sent me that message.” - -A sigh escaped Loïs. - -“Anything more?” he asked roughly; “if not, let me pass.” - -“Roger, won’t you say good-bye, maybe for the last time? _He_ was not there; -_he_ did not do those cruel deeds. Oh, will you never forgive?” - -“Never,” he answered, and passed on. - -The first dawn of day found them all assembled in Father Nat’s kitchen, -partaking of their last meal. It was soon over, and then a quick farewell, a -silent pressure of hand in hand, and the travellers crossed that hospitable -threshold, many of them never to return again. - -“God speed you. His blessing be with you all!” said Father Nat, standing in -the porch; and so they went forth. As Lord Howe passed Loïs he took her hand, -and said gently,-- - -“Be of good courage; you will win him yet.” - -Her face was very white, with a strained, weary look about the soft blue eyes. -A short sigh, almost like a gasp of pain, escaped her. “Thank you,” she said. - -When the last of the troop had disappeared into the wood, the women returned -to their work with quiet, animal-like patience, and Nathaniel and Marcus went -into the village with John Cleveland to see that their orders for the proper -protection of the settlement had been carried out. - -Striking straight across the woods, Roger and his followers walked rapidly, -but with great care, for some miles without speaking. Their object was to -escape the redskins; and to do this they must needs mislead them--a most -difficult task. To conceal their track they walked as lightly as possible, -avoiding even brushing against a tree, lest its bark should betray them; -winding in and out, taking a circuitous road, and practising many other -devices. They did not dare to stop and rest even after several hours’ tramp, -because if they had lain down their bodies would necessarily have left marks -on the ground; so they went forward till nightfall, when they found themselves -on a high open plain, where it would have been impossible for an enemy to take -them unawares. Here they rested, not venturing even to light a fire, but -eating a portion of the dried meat, with which each man had been supplied; and -then, wrapped in their bearskins and blankets, they slept. The following -morning they started off again, and at midday were joined by a party of their -own men, who reported that the Indians were swarming in the woods, and were -only kept at bay by the knowledge that Roger’s Rangers were abroad. - -“We shall have to take to the river,” said Roger; “the banks are thickly -wooded down to the very edge. We have scouts on either bank: if the red men -see us, which they are sure to do, they will not dare attack us.” - -The following day three canoes were launched, into which Roger, Howe and his -companions, with two or three of the scouts, entered, and the remainder of the -corps dispersed. Noiselessly and rapidly the canoes were paddled forward, for -some time without their perceiving any sign betokening the presence of the -Indians. Before long they entered the vast solitudes of the forests; a solemn -silence reigned over all, broken only by the sound of the beaver or the otter -as it plunged into the water, or the cries of the birds as they flew from -tree-top to tree-top. - -After the second day’s journey the river gradually narrowed, and the roots of -the trees which grew down close to the water’s edge resembled the twisted -bodies of huge serpents. Lord Howe was lying at the bottom of the foremost -canoe, whilst Roger at the head kept a vigilant look out. Suddenly Howe saw -him stoop over the edge, plunge his hand into the water, and draw something -forth, uttering a low exclamation of surprise. - -“What is it?” said Howe, lifting himself up. - -Roger did not answer immediately; his eyes were straining into the depths of -the forest; then he raised his head and looked up to the summits of the trees, -upon the upper branches of which the sun cast its golden light. - -“See what I have found,” he said, bending forward and showing Howe a thong in -red leather similar to what the Indians use for fastening on their mocassins. -“They are in front of us,” he said, with an almost imperceptible movement of -his head towards the forest. - -And now, as they watched, a curious thing occurred. A couple of hundred yards -in advance of them the river was filled in by pointed rocks, over which the -water rushed with foaming rapidity; only on one side was a narrow passage, -leaving room for one or two canoes to pass through abreast. Suddenly they -heard a loud cracking, and saw a tree slowly bend and then fall right across -this passage, the upper branches resting on the pointed rocks. - -“We have been betrayed,” said Roger between his teeth. “Lie down, sir,” he -said to Howe; “they will open fire upon us.” At the same time he signed to the -rowers in his boat to stop paddling, and thus to allow the two other canoes to -draw up on either side of his. “Lie down, all of you,” he said; “and now -paddle slowly.” At that moment a troop of Indians, with arms shining in the -sunlight and with savage cries, dashed down the river bank, launched their -canoes, and directed them towards the three which were floating almost -motionless on the waters. - -Lost! Assuredly they were lost! - -They were all brave men, and had looked death many a time before in the face; -but, nevertheless, at this supreme moment the horror of a defenceless death -overwhelmed them all. - -“Land us, and let us at least fight it out,” said Howe. But Roger made no -answer; he understood the tactics of his enemies. Having barred the passage, -there was nothing left for them to do but to surround and massacre the -occupants of the three canoes. They did not even shoot at them, so certain -were they of their prey. The Indian canoes now advanced in a semicircle, -widening out, somewhat slowly, because their boats were heavily laden. Each -man had his hatchet in his hand and his knife between his teeth, ready to slay -or to scalp his victims. By degrees the Indians approached so close upon the -three canoes that a few yards alone lay between them and their prey; they -uttered a hideous cry of victory, which was re-echoed in the woods. - -“Row for your lives!” said Roger suddenly. “If we reach the tree before the -Indians we are saved!” - -Instant obedience followed his command, though to all appearance they were -going to their destruction; the frail barks must necessarily be dashed to -pieces against the huge trunk of the tree barring their way. Calm and -immovable, his eyes fixed upon the Indian canoes gradually coming nearer and -nearer, Roger stood ready, as it seemed, to throw himself into the river. -Indians lined the banks, but they dared not shoot, for fear of injuring their -own people. It was only a question of seconds; their enemies must inevitably -be dashed to pieces, and then they would swim across the stream and be in at -the death. Two of the Indian canoes in their haste knocked against each other; -there was a moment’s check. The English were within six feet of the fatal -tree. In a second it would be over. Every man held his breath and uttered a -last prayer to God for mercy. In that second Roger had disappeared. And then -slowly but surely the tree was lifted as by a lever, and the three canoes, -driven by the current and by the quick impulse of the rowers, passed -underneath. The Indians were close behind; but as suddenly as it had been -lifted so suddenly it fell again, crushing beneath its weight the warriors and -their overladen barks. - -Terrible cries arose from the woods and from the surging waters. The evil -spirits had interfered; it was a supernatural intervention. Superstitious -terror seized the Indians, and those on land fled into the interior of the -forest. The thickness of the foliage had prevented their seeing Roger clamber -up the highest rock and raise the tree on to his broad shoulders, holding it -there just long enough to let his friends pass underneath. - -In the almost unconscious excitement which followed, the rowers had continued -their course with marvellous rapidity, forgetful of the one who had saved -them, until Howe, rising, held up his hand and bade them cease rowing. - -“We must wait for Roger,” he said, and his voice was tremulous with suppressed -emotion. A few minutes later they saw him swimming towards them; every hand -was stretched out to seize his as he hoisted himself into the canoe. - -“I’ve cheated those devils once more,” he said, in his rich, deep voice. - -“It is marvellous,” answered Lord Howe. “With God’s help you have saved us -from an awful death, Roger.” - -“A mere question of time and strength,” he answered carelessly. “We must keep -to the river now for a few miles, then land and take to the woods. I don’t -think we shall hear much more of the red gentlemen for the present; they’ve -had a fright,” and he laughed. His shirt was torn to pieces, and his shoulders -were bruised and bleeding; but his companions thought they had never seen a -grander man than Roger the Ranger! - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -SILENT INFLUENCE - - -From the first General Montcalm’s position was one of great difficulty. All -the Canadian officials were opposed to him. Their conduct was so dubious, and -would bear so little looking into, that they feared his clear-sightedness and -uprightness. Vaudreuil, the governor, was jealous of him, and it was not long -before the General was made to feel this. False reports concerning him were -sent to the court of France; any advantages he gained over the enemy Vaudreuil -attributed to himself and the civil government. - -“My real crime,” Montcalm wrote to his wife, “is to have more prestige than -Vaudreuil, and, above all things, more virtue than he has. I much fear time -will only increase his dislike of me.” - -Montcalm’s popularity with the colonists and with the Indians was another -cause for Vaudreuil’s displeasure. The General was incapable of dissimulation, -and as he had received full military power, he was naturally impatient of -interference, and showed it. His second officer, Chevalier Levis, was far more -popular: he ingratiated himself with all the government men--Vaudreuil, Bigot, -Varin, etc. He knew exactly what they were worth; but, as he observed to -Montcalm more than once, “We shall not make them better by opposition; all we -have to do is to make use of them.” He also did what Montcalm failed to do, -courted the good graces of the ladies. When in the camp and field, there was -not a better officer, and his devotion to his general knew no bounds; he stood -between him and his enemies, trying to conciliate all parties; but when off -duty he threw himself into the gaieties both of Quebec and Montreal, attending -the balls and picnics, always gracious and gallant, and therefore an immense -favourite with the fair sex. - -Montcalm, on the contrary, held himself aloof from all such dissipations. -Notwithstanding his buoyant nature, the opposition he met with, and the -difficulties which seemed to crowd ever thicker and thicker around him, -weighed upon his spirits, and at times caused deep depression. He seemed to -have a presentiment that his mission would prove a failure. - -“Ah, when shall I see my dear Candiac again, my avenue of chestnut trees, and -you, my dearest?” he wrote in one of his letters to his wife. - -Contrary to what might have been expected, Mercèdes settled down to her new -life under Madame Péan’s roof easily and happily. Certain characters have a -strange admixture of good and evil in them. Madame Péan had been early spoilt -by adulation; she lived entirely for the world and society. Her husband was in -receipt of immense sums of money, through the influence of his commercial -partners, Bigot and Varin. His fortune was estimated at three to four -millions. His wife, therefore, could satisfy her passion for luxury, dress and -dissipation. When she proposed taking Mercèdes into her house, during the -General’s first campaign, it had, as we know, been to get a hold over -Montcalm; but when she saw the little dark-eyed girl, with the impetuosity of -an undisciplined nature she was taken with a sudden fondness for her, which -day by day grew more intense. Had Mercèdes been beautiful, jealousy and -rivalry might have arisen between them; but with this simple, nun-like maiden -it was impossible. Her presence in the house gradually became a necessity to -Madame. - -“We are supposed, all of us, to have our guardian angels,” she said to -Mercèdes one day, “and I think you must be mine. I believe I am a better, and -I am quite sure I am a happier woman, since I have had you beside me.” - -The suite of rooms at the top of the house which she had destined for Mercèdes -were plain, almost comfortless, when the latter was first introduced to them; -but before long it was converted into a perfect nest of comfort and luxury. - -“I don’t want all this, you know; I shall only have a cold bare cell when I am -a nun. You are spoiling me,” said Mercèdes. - -“It is my pleasure; indeed, my happiness,” answered Madame. “Sacrifice -yourself to me, Mercèdes, my child. I have been spoilt and adored ever since I -can remember, but I have never cared for anything before. Let me spoil you; it -is a novel pastime.” And so it came to pass that when the General returned to -Quebec he found Mercèdes settled; and at the first word he uttered about her -leaving, and going to the Ursulines, Madame exclaimed,-- - -“You cannot take her away from me; she is my guardian angel. She is of more -use to me than she would be in the convent; there she could only pray, here -she is a living example. When I see her little figure going morning and -evening across the road to the Ursuline Chapel, I feel as if a saint had -entered my house and sanctified it. You need not fear, Monsieur; nothing evil -shall approach her, either by word or sight. She is my almoner. Somehow she -seems to find out the poor and sick; they come to her, and she and Marthe are -now familiar figures in the back streets and poor quarters of Quebec. ‘The -little nun, the good General’s daughter,’ she is called. What would you have -more? Let her do her work: it is a blessed work. She never appears at my grand -receptions. She knows nothing of _our_ world; but when I am weary I go up to -her, and it is as if I breathed a new life. I am better for it. Leave her -under my roof, General; she is in the world, but not of it.” - -Still the General hesitated. He knew now that much that went on at Madame -Péan’s was contrary to his ideas, and in direct opposition to his and his -wife’s code of morals; but the Chevalier Levis added his persuasions to -Madame’s. - -“You will give mortal offence if you remove her,” he said; “and surely you -have enemies enough already. It is quite true what Madame says: Mademoiselle -Mercèdes lives a life utterly apart from hers. She is never seen in the -_salons_ of the Intendance, and only appears when it is a quiet home party. -You can judge for yourself.” - -And the General did so. His happiest moments during his short stay in Quebec -were spent in Mercèdes’ rooms, the windows of which looked upon the convent -gardens, where the silent nuns were pacing up and down the paths, turning -their backs, with their heavy sable coiffures sweeping their black robes, and -anon their still, mask-like faces, set in that stiff framework of white linen, -towards these windows; and he felt almost relieved to keep his Mercèdes a -little longer a free agent; she looked so happy and so well, as she stood -beside him in the little greenery which Madame Péan had created for her of -house plants, tall geraniums, an over-arching ivy, and delicate roses. - -“You are content to remain here, Mercèdes?” he asked. - -“Only too content,” she answered. “I try always to remember it is but for a -time, and because she wants me; and I look across the road and know that my -true home is there.” - -“And you have no regrets for the world you will leave behind, Mercèdes?” he -asked. - -She turned her head slightly on one side, so that the General could not see -the colour which mantled her face. - -“I think not,” she answered quietly. “Why should I?” - -And so, when the General left her for the winter campaign, it was an -understood thing that for the present at least she was to remain with Madame -Péan. Events followed so rapidly--defeats, victories, hair-breadth -escapes--that, feeling she was in safe keeping, the General had no time to be -even anxious about Mercèdes; and so she led a strange though by no means an -unhappy life in that upper story. Both her and Marthe’s time was spent working -and fashioning clothes for the poor; for, alas! only too quickly the poverty -and distress grew to be severe. Bread rose to an exorbitant price; meat there -was none save horseflesh. At least, so Mercèdes saw and heard in her visits -among the poor; but at Madame Péan’s table there was every luxury both in and -out of season. She remarked upon this more than once, and was told she must -not be too credulous, the poor were so improvident! At Montreal everything was -at famine price, and the public indignation was so great against the -government that the populace mobbed the Governor, the troops joining in the -mutiny, and it was with difficulty that Chevalier Levis, by his authority and -tact, succeeded in quelling the rebellion. - -Occasionally, at rare intervals, Mercèdes and Charles Langlade met. Often -months elapsed between these interviews; then suddenly at the corner of a -street, or maybe as she rose from her knees after service in the cathedral, -Mercèdes would become aware of the Canadian hunter’s presence. He would salute -her, enquire after her well-being, and walk with her and Marthe part of the -homeward way; but at the door they parted. - -One day, as Charles Langlade was still standing cap in hand looking after -Mercèdes’ retreating figure, Madame Péan’s coach drove up. A light came into -her eyes, and she hastened to descend. “At last,” she murmured, and going -quickly up to the young officer, she said,-- - -“Monsieur Langlade, why are you such a stranger? Major Péan was speaking only -yesterday of your services, how inestimable they are. Will you not come in and -partake of supper? We happen to be almost alone to-night, and our little nun -will then come out of her shell. You and she are great friends, if I mistake -not.” - -“You honour me too much, Madame,” answered Charles. “I am but a poor hunter, a -chief among savages. I can scarcely venture to call myself the friend of my -illustrious General’s daughter. When, as now, I have been with her father, if -I happen to meet her, I give her news of him--that is all.” - -Madame looked at him steadily for a minute, then said, “But you will come in -to supper?” He shook his head, bowed low, and was gone. And Mercèdes from her -window, looking down, watched the tall figure as it strode up the street, and -at last disappeared. These interviews made her feel strangely bright and -happy, and she gradually grew to look forward to them. She knew that he was -her father’s right hand, that, so to speak, he kept guard upon all the country -for many miles round Quebec down the St. Lawrence. The General himself had -told her that, out of his own army, there was no one he trusted like Charles -Langlade and the tribe he commanded. - -Events were crowding upon each other; and the General knew full well that -unless France came to his assistance, England must gain the mastery. Pitt was -determined to win and to carry on the colonisation of the continent under the -auspices of Protestantism, rather than allow France leagued with the Roman -Catholics to gain the ascendency. His policy was popular; he invited the -colonies to co-operate willingly, and entirely rejected the coercive policy of -his predecessors. He was eminently successful; and whilst Montcalm wrote in -1758, “New France needs peace, or sooner or later it must fall--such are the -numbers of the English, such the difficulty of our receiving supplies,” the -colonies were making immense sacrifices to levy, pay, and clothe the -provincial army. - -Massachusetts set a noble example; she was the frontier and advance-guard of -all the colonies against the enemy. Notwithstanding the extreme poverty of her -population, which lived mainly by fishing, farming, and a trade hampered by -the British navigation laws, she still imposed taxes to the amount of thirteen -shillings in the pound, and there was no murmuring. The war gradually assumed -almost the character of a crusade, and was viewed with religious enthusiasm. -All sects for the time being sank their differences, and the chaplains -exhorted their congregations to unite together, themselves setting the example -of good fellowship. - -“Be courageous, for no cowards go to heaven,” said Dr. Caleb Rea, chaplain of -a Massachusetts regiment, in his last sermon to a young band of volunteers; -and they went forth, like the Puritans of old, singing hymns and psalms. - -The Canadian population were not less desirous of supporting Montcalm and -maintaining their independence; but they had two parties to contend with, the -civil and military government, between whom there was no union. Besides which, -vice, luxury, and an exorbitant love of gain were rampant among those who -ought to have set the example of moderation and self-sacrifice; and thus their -resources were undermined. In vain Montcalm applied to the mother country for -help, despatching Bougainville to represent the state of affairs to the Court -at Versailles; but the sins which were to cause the loss of Canada were in -full force there; and to Bougainville’s earnest pleading he received for -answer, “Eh, Monsieur, when the house is on fire, one cannot occupy one’s self -with the stable.” - -And so the French officer returned sadly to Canada and gave this message. -Montcalm recognised that from henceforth he was forsaken by the Court, and -could reckon only upon God’s mercy and his own genius and courage. - -“Poor king, poor France, _cara patria_,” was his only answer; and he prepared -for what he knew to be an almost hopeless struggle. - - - - -CHAPTER XV - -LOST - - -When Roger had conducted Lord Howe to within a comparatively safe distance of -his destination, he left him to pursue his journey in company with another -party of scouts, who were going in that direction, whereas Roger was anxious -to gain the mountains on the western shore of Lake Champlain, where he foresaw -a struggle would shortly take place. - -“We shall meet probably at Ticonderoga, or thereabouts,” said Howe, as he -wrung Roger’s hand at parting. - -He left the three young officers, Philips, Pringle, and Roche, with Roger, to -complete their apprenticeship, he said; but William Parkmann accompanied Howe. -The young man’s devotion to his general was such that he was never happy away -from him. And truly Howe was a man worthy of the affection which he won at -every stage of his short career. A very Spartan in private and public life, a -Christian in word and deed, a character of ancient times, and a model of -military virtue: such was he. Of him, Wolfe, his great contemporary, said, “He -is the noblest gentleman who has appeared in my time, and the best soldier in -the British army.” - -Regretfully Roger saw Howe depart. They had lived together for many months, -and each appreciated the other. Howe grieved for the sorrow and the bitterness -which had come into the young hunter’s life; but he hoped and believed time -would soften the rebellious temper which made him visit so unjustly Charles -Langlade’s offence upon innocent heads. “If you go back to Marshwood, remember -me at both Alpha and Omega,” he said at parting; and so each went his way. - -The news of Roger’s last deed of prowess had spread rapidly. The Indians -attributed it to the power of the spirits, but the Canadians knew better. When -Charles Langlade heard the story, a feeling of pride filled his heart, almost -of regret that he had not been with him--his friend, his brother; but Roger -and his Rangers had now assumed such importance that they were looked upon as -representing a greater danger than the regular forces. - -Understanding Indian warfare, with a perfect knowledge of the whole country, -led by a fearless leader, if they were not kept in check or crushed the -results would certainly be of such a nature as to threaten the free action of -the French and Canadian armies. It was therefore decided in a council of war -that an expedition of Indians and Canadians should be sent to meet the -Rangers, and, if possible, stop their progress. Charles Langlade saw the -necessity and justice of the step, but naturally he was loth to take part in -it, and would gladly have remained in the neighbourhood of Quebec; but his -knowledge of the country where the New England Rangers were likely at the -present moment to be was a reason for his being called to command the -expedition sent against them. In all honour he could not hold back; he had -cast in his lot with France, and he must needs stand steadfast to the bitter -end. - -This war resembled in many ways a civil war--of all afflictions which can -visit a country the most terrible! Father against son, brother against -brother, the crushing beneath one’s feet of every domestic tie--a moral agony -from first to last. Rome and Alba, the Horatii and Curiatii, the Wars of the -Roses and the great English civil war of the seventeenth century, stand out in -the history of the world as times of sore distress and anguish. Blood flowed -freely. Some of the best and noblest in the land were laid low; but who -reckons the women’s tears of blood, the agony of those hearts torn with -divided affections? Fathers and husbands, brothers and lovers, drawing their -swords against each other--truly it needed an Amazonian nature to love a -country which demanded such sacrifices. The great French poet Corneille -understood the natural weakness of a woman’s heart when he pictured Camille, -the sister of Horace, kneeling over her dead lover’s body, cursing Rome and -the arm that had laid him low. So let us ever pray for peace at home and -abroad, the peace which reigned on earth when the Saviour was born, and which -we believe He will bring with Him at His second coming. - -It was with a heavy heart that Charles Langlade, true to his sense of duty, -took the command of the Indian and Canadian contingent, and set out to meet -the Rangers, passing up the valley of Trout Brook, a mountain gorge that opens -upon the valley of Ticonderoga. - -After leaving Howe, Roger had rejoined his men at the west point of the -mountain known as “Roger’s Rock,” thus named from an exploit in which he had -outwitted the Indians and saved his own and comrades’ lives when still a mere -youth. The rough and rocky ground was still partially covered with snow, and -all around stood the grey trunks of the forest trees, bearing aloft their -skeleton arms, a tangled intricacy of leafless twigs. - -Here Roger encamped, knowing full well that the Indians were in the -neighbourhood; but the spot had natural advantages. Close on the right was a -steep hill, and at a little distance on the left a brook still partially -covered with snow and ice. He sent scouts out into the woods, and several -skirmishes took place; but he did not believe that at this point the Indians -were in any considerable force. He therefore determined to rid himself of -these enemies by pushing them farther back, and, being informed through his -scouts of the arrival of a reinforcement from one of the Iroquois tribes, he -judged it would be best to attack them at once. - -Desiring Lieutenant Philips to remain in the rear, he himself advanced through -a mountain pass, at the farther extremity of which a party of Indians were -encamped. He took them by surprise, and after a short but desperate skirmish -they fled before him. Determined to drive them farther off, he pursued them, -when suddenly with a loud war-whoop they turned upon him, and from the -surrounding forest Indians came pouring down on him and his company. Philips -hurried to the rescue; but the little force was overwhelmed by numbers, and -eight officers, beside a hundred Rangers, lay dead in the snow. - -The young lieutenants Pringle and Roche fought beside Roger. - -“There is nothing left but for you to escape into the mountains,” he said at -last. “Make your way through the forest to Fort Edward. Do you see there to -the left a narrow pass? Escape whilst you can; in five minutes it will be too -late. I am responsible for your lives.” - -“Where you go, we go,” said Pringle. - -They were crouching with some twenty men behind a clump of trees firing upon -the savages, but their ammunition was running short. Philips in his turn was -being overwhelmed. From every part of the forest the redskins came pouring -down. - -“It is of no use; we must run for it,” said Roger. “Load once more, and when I -say ‘fire’ give it them all together; then up the pass and into the mountains: -it is our only chance.” - -He was obeyed. They poured a volley of shot into the ranks of the savages, who -fell back for a second; and before they had recovered themselves or the smoke -had cleared away, Roger and a score of his companions were in full flight. To -keep together was impossible; the Indians harassed them on every side. They -scaled mountains, forded streams, and at last, by nightfall, Roger, with a -handful of followers, had out-distanced his pursuers and lay hidden in a cave; -but, to his distress, Pringle, Roche, and his own faithful servant, William -Smith, were missing. - -They had no food, and lay all night on the bare ground. When day dawned they -crept out, only to find traces of the enemy all around. Still it was -impossible to remain in the cave. - -“Listen,” said Roger, “there is only one way of escape. Once, as you all know, -when a mere lad I scaled yonder mountain. On the opposite side there is a -precipice; it is perpendicular, and the chances are ten to one of breaking -your neck in the descent. I prefer that to being tomahawked. I advise no one -to follow me. The Indians, who are on the watch, will be sure to see me, and -that will make a diversion in your favour. If I succeed, once on the other -side, I shall have little difficulty in reaching Fort Edward. My presence -amongst you rather adds to than takes from the danger of your position. They -know I am here, and Roger’s scalp is, it seems, worth having. We will go forth -together, and make a run for it, till we come to the foot of Roger’s Mountain; -then I will turn off and begin the ascent. The Indians are sure to follow me. -Let them. I think I know a dodge or two to keep them at bay. You, in the -meantime, take to the woods. If you get well in and across to the other side -you may escape, but as long as I am with you your chances are small; they are -after me, and will not lose my track. Are you all agreed?” - -They answered in the affirmative. Two or three were for accompanying Roger, -but he dissuaded them. - -“You would but hamper my movements,” he said, “and probably come to grief. I -know every inch of the mountain, but you do not; you run less risk in keeping -together; and if I can get round in time I may muster a band and come to your -help. I wonder what has become of Philips?” - -Alas! like many others, the brave young lieutenant had been cruelly murdered. - -Moving in and out of the forest, dodging the Indians in every possible way, -the little party at last reached the foot of the mountain, grey and bare, its -summit rising to the clouds. - -Suddenly, with a shout, Roger was seen scaling it. To follow him was the -natural instinct of the savages. He let them for a time; then suddenly he -turned round and fired down upon them. Several fell, but, nothing daunted, -they responded. Gradually, as the ascent grew more and more precipitous, they -dropped off, and the last they saw of Roger was standing on the edge of what -they knew to be a fathomless precipice. They saw him throw himself forward and -disappear from their sight. Half-way up the mountain they discovered his -bearskin, which he must have thrown off, and they carried it back in triumph. -Its owner was doubtless lying dashed to pieces in the abyss. - -His companions had followed his advice, and most of them managed in the course -of two or three days to reach Lake St. George, and from thence Fort Edward. -The young lieutenants Pringle and Roche fared the worst. Separated from their -party, they got hopelessly lost in the woods. In the brushwood, among the low -branches of the trees, their clothes were soon reduced to rags. They had no -food except a small portion of dried sausage and a little ginger. After two -days’ and two nights’ wandering they had nothing to subsist upon but juniper -berries and the inner bark of trees. They fell in with Roger’s own servant, -William Smith, by whose help they made snowshoes of forked branches, twigs, -and leather strings; for their feet were torn to pieces and half-frozen. The -three struggled on together, wandering over nameless mountains, climbing over -fallen trees, until on the sixth day they discovered that they had circled -round to their starting-point! But at least now they knew their bearings, and -they reached the bank of Lake St. George. Here suddenly a heavy snowstorm -arose. They dared not stop; so, bending their heads to the storm, they fought -their way forward into the valley of Ticonderoga, not eight miles distant from -the French fort. In the struggle Pringle had lost his gun, and almost his -life; they determined therefore to surrender. Night found them once more in -the forest. Here, utterly exhausted, William Smith became delirious, laid -down, and died. To keep their blood in motion, and fearful lest if they moved -backwards or forwards they should once more lose themselves in the depths of -the forest, the two officers walked all night round and round a tree! In the -morning, half-dead, they made for the French fort. When they came in sight of -it, they hoisted a white handkerchief. Instantly two or three French officers -dashed forward and saved them from the Indians, who had almost laid hands upon -them. - -They were conducted to the fort as prisoners of war, and kindly treated and -tended. Later on they were exchanged. - -_Note._--Pringle died in 1800, senior Major-General of the British army. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - -FRIENDSHIPS - - -“There’s a man asking for you, sir!” said a servant to Lord Howe, as he sat in -the verandah of his friend Colonel Schuyler’s house in Albany. - -It was a lovely day at the end of May. Winter had given place to a sudden -burst of spring, or rather early summer. The woods were rich with green -foliage; sunshine bathed the land, giving promise of a rich harvest of grains -and fruit, which in this climate ripen almost as quickly as they spring forth -from mother earth. - -“A man asking for me?” said Lord Howe. “What sort of man?” - -“Well, sir, he’s rather rough-looking: a border man, I should say,” answered -the servant. - -“Better show him up here,” said Colonel Schuyler. “In these times one has to -deal with such a queer lot.” - -Howe nodded assent, and the servant disappeared. The General rose and went -over to where his hostess, Madame Schuyler, sat in a low rocking-chair, -somewhat apart from the men, gazing sadly over the town and country. She and -Lord Howe were great friends. He had been a guest in this hospitable home for -several weeks, and both husband and wife had become deeply attached to him. - -“What are you thinking of, Madame?” said Howe. - -She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. - -“I was thinking,” she answered, in a low voice, “that soon you will be leaving -us. Will you ever come back again?” - -“That is as God wills,” said Howe reverently. “Why trouble? Life and death are -in His hands, not in ours. The great call may come to me here in your happy -home as quickly as on the battle-field. I never feel nearer death there than -elsewhere.” - -Before she could answer him, a quick step was heard on the verandah. Howe -turned round. - -“Roger!” he exclaimed, holding out both his hands. - -“Yes; I’ve turned up again,” said the hunter, as he returned the greeting. “I -suppose, like others, you reckoned I had taken my last leap?” - -“I did indeed,” answered Howe. “You are almost like one come back to us from -the dead. Let me introduce you to my friends, and then tell us how it happens -that you are now standing before us alive, and, what is still more wonderful, -sound of limb, if I mistake not!” and he looked at his friend critically from -head to foot. - -Roger threw his head back and laughed. “Yes, there are no broken bones,” he -answered. - -“Madame,” said Howe, turning to Madame Schuyler, “allow me to present you to a -man I am proud to call my friend, ‘Roger the Ranger.’” - -“The name is enough,” said the Colonel, coming up. “The whole country is alive -with the story of your exploits; but your _last_ beats them all. Do your -Rangers know of your escape, sir?” - -“Yes; I joined a party of my men as soon as possible, but purposely kept quiet -for some time,” answered Roger. “Though not wounded, I was frightfully -bruised; sliding down that rock was no small matter. I was more dead than -alive when I got to the bottom, and had two or three ugly cuts. I believe I -must have lain unconscious for several hours. When I gathered myself together -I could hardly drag my limbs. I had to remain hidden in the forest for upwards -of a week, living on juniper berries and anything I could pick up; fortunately -the less a man gets to eat in a case like mine the better. I knew of a stream, -and was able to get fresh water; so by degrees the fever went down, and I -crawled to Fort Edward. I gave them a startler there; they thought it was my -ghost.” - -“Do you know what has become of Philips?” asked Lord Howe. - -“Murdered,” answered Roger shortly. “Pringle and Roche are prisoners of the -French, but they are well treated, and will in all probability be exchanged -before long. Where’s William Parkmann? Gone home?” - -“No fear of that,” answered Howe; “he is my faithful esquire, and will not -leave me. He has just gone down the town, but he will be back before long. He -has been in terrible trouble about you. Of course at the Marshes they know you -are safe? You’ve taken care of that?” - -“Yes; as soon as I was able I sent a party of men to let them know,” answered -Roger; “but it was a good two months after the mishap. However, fortunately, -news travels slowly out there, and it was some weeks before they knew anything -especial had happened; and as they are pretty well accustomed to my -hair-breadth escapes, they were not over-ready to believe the rumour of my -death. However, the assurance that I was alive and well was none the less -welcome.” - -“I should rather think not,” said Madame Schuyler; “but do you really consider -it safe for your family to remain in such an out-of-the-way place? Every day -we hear of villages and settlements burnt and pillaged. At least, it seems to -me it would be better for your womankind if they came into a city for -protection.” - -“I have no womankind,” said Roger sternly, looking straight before him, so as -to avoid Lord Howe’s eye; “and no power on earth would drag my father away -from the Marshes as long as there is one stone left upon another. The -settlement is large and well defended. I should say they ran less danger than -most of the border villages; and, in any case, it would not do for the heads -to take flight.” - -“But at Alpha Marsh they are only women,” said Lord Howe. - -“Marcus is there; he must decide. I have no word in the matter,” said Roger, -turning away to greet William Parkmann. - -In the course of the evening, to Roger’s annoyance, the danger to the -colonists on the border was again discussed. - -“My father has offered to send an escort to bring Mistress Langlade and her -daughters to Boston,” said William Parkmann; “but neither Loïs nor her mother -will move, and of course the younger girls will not leave them. Surely you -might use your influence and represent to them the risk they are running,” he -said, turning to Roger. - -“I have no influence,” was the stony answer. “My father and Marcus will do all -that can be done to protect them; besides, as I told you before, I hardly -think the Indians will attack the Marshes. Their chief has surely power enough -to protect his own people!” - -“I doubt it; besides, Langlade cannot be everywhere,” said Howe; “and the -Indians will owe you a worse grudge than ever now. Be warned, Roger, and send -word for the women to be sent to Boston.” - -“If I did, Loïs would not obey me,” he said slowly. Neither Lord Howe nor -William Parkmann had ever heard him pronounce her name before. “He who ought -to have been there to defend his own has forsaken them; can she do likewise?” -he added, turning away with an angry gesture. - -“There is nothing for it, William,” said Howe gently, “but to leave them in -God’s hands and trust to His mercy.” - -“Ah, Madame Schuyler,” said William Parkmann to their hostess, “if you could -only see my pretty Marie! She is like a white lily. To think of those savages -approaching her is agony.” - -“Try and not think of it,” said the lady gently. “Surely their brother will -take care they are not molested?” - -“He cannot prevent the tribes making raids on the settlements,” said Lord -Howe; “and, besides, I have heard that Montcalm keeps him as much as he can -with him. It is St. Luc de la Corne and Nivernelle who were at the head of the -late expeditions. But here comes Roger; better say nothing more at present.” - -The next few weeks were spent in hard, matter-of-fact preparation for the -coming campaign. Roger’s Rangers came from all parts, and gathered round him a -stronger force than ever, delighted to have once more found their leader, and -prouder than ever of his exploits. They were to take up their position on Lake -St. George, and to drive Montcalm from several advantageous positions he held -there, more especially from the plateau of Ticonderoga. - -“Yes, dear lady, we shall part to-morrow,” said Lord Howe, the eve of the day -fixed for the departure of the army. “I have come to bid you farewell and to -thank you for my happy holiday. I trust before many weeks are over to return -to you victorious. Everything is in our favour; we have a splendid army, 6367 -officers and soldiers, regulars, and 9054 colonial troops.” - -“If they are well disciplined, I wonder who is to thank for it!” said Madame -Schuyler significantly. - -“Certainly not Mrs. Nabby-Cromby, the ‘Aged One,’”[1] said William Parkmann, -who had accompanied Howe, on his farewell visit. - -[Footnote 1: This nickname was generally applied to Abercromby throughout the -army, though he was only fifty-two years of age; but he was incapable and -infirm.] - -“Whatever may be your private opinion, it would be more agreeable to me if you -would express yourself, when speaking of our General-in-Chief, more -respectfully,” said Lord Howe severely. - -“I am sorry,” said William Parkmann, who knew full well that the least breach -of discipline was an unpardonable offence in the eyes of his leader. - -Brigadier-General Howe was in reality the soul of the expedition; the soldiers -were devoted to him, and ready to follow him to the death. Yet he was a strict -disciplinarian. He had brought to bear upon the army all the experience he had -gathered during his months of forest warfare under Roger. He made the men -under his command dress according to their work. The coats of both regulars -and provincials were cut short at the waist; they wore leggings to protect -them from the briers. He did away with the long hair which was still the -fashion in the English army. All these details would have rendered many men -unpopular; but in Howe’s case it had the contrary effect: the sweetness of his -temper, his own personal example, and the excessive charm of his manner -carried all before him. With the exception of the few weeks he had been -persuaded to spend with the Schuylers whilst in the neighbourhood of Albany, -he lived in camp with his men, simply and roughly, sharing their hardships, -and, one and all, they appreciated his self-sacrifice. - -“Nevertheless, though you are too modest to care to hear it, what William -Parkmann says is true,” said Madame Schuyler. “Without you there would be -neither order nor discipline in the army. If anything were to happen to you, -there would be an end to all things.” - -“We might throw down our arms at once,” said William Parkmann. “General -Montcalm would have a fine chance.” - -“I don’t think there’s a man I’m so sorry for as that man, though he be our -enemy!” said Howe. “But for him we should walk over the ground. He’s a -splendid general, and is holding his own against desperate odds, Vaudreuil is -jealous of him, and thwarts him at every step; and the other Canadian -officials are thieves and robbers. If Montcalm held all the power in his own -hands, and was properly seconded, we should have but little chance; as it is -he may yet win!” - -“You don’t really think he will?” said Madame Schuyler. - -“No, I do not,” answered Howe; “but still he is a splendid fellow, and as long -as he holds Quebec he is master of Canada. If he were _sole_ master, then I -should say the odds were for him and against us. And now, dear lady, farewell. -I have still much to see to to-night, and to-morrow at daybreak we shall -start. Never doubt but what as we pass by I shall look upwards to your white -house on these sunny upland meadows, and think of the happy hours I have spent -here, and the dear friends I leave behind.” - -“Farewell, and God be with you,” said Madame Schuyler, her voice choked with -tears, as she gave him her hand; he bent for a second over it. - -“God bless you and yours,” he said; then he turned away, ran down the terrace, -and disappeared from sight. - -William Parkmann hastened to follow his chief’s example; but as he took leave -of Madame Schuyler he said,-- - -“You need not fear for him; he is so beloved; we all keep watch and ward over -him.” - -“It will be of no avail,” she answered sadly. “I saw him last night in a -dream, lying dead in the long green grass;” and, turning away to hide her -emotion, she slowly re-entered the house. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII - -THROUGH THE FOREST - - -It was the 5th of July, 1758. The sun shone forth in all his glory, gilding -the mountain tops and lighting up the deepest valleys. The English and -Colonial troops had embarked the previous evening on nine hundred troop-boats; -a hundred and thirty-five whale-boats and a large number of flat boats carried -the artillery. - -It was a superb spectacle, never forgotten by those who witnessed it, when the -boats filed forth and entered the narrows, a long line extending for six -miles. The flash of oars and glitter of weapons, the banners, the varied -uniforms, the notes of the bugle, the bagpipes, trumpets, and drums, prolonged -by a hundred woodland echoes, enhanced the brightness of the summer day and -the romantic beauty of the scenery. The sheen and sparkle of the crystal -waters, the countless islets tufted with pine, birch, and fir, the bordering -mountains, with their green summits and sunny crags, united to impress this -scene upon the minds of all present. - -“I never beheld such a delightful prospect,” wrote an eye-witness to his -friends at home. There was something triumphant in it; and the spirits of both -men and officers responded to the general impression. The boats advanced -rapidly down Lake St. George, and it was still daylight when they halted to -await the baggage and artillery, which were in the rear. After sunset they -started afresh, and by daybreak the next morning had reached the end of the -lake. - -Here they became aware that they were being watched by an advance party of the -French. Roger immediately landed with his company of Rangers, and drove the -enemy back into the wood, after which the whole army went on shore. A council -of officers was then called, of whom Howe and Roger were the leading spirits. - -When the council was over the two men lay side by side on their outstretched -bearskins resting. The scene was lovely. A plain covered with forest stretched -half a mile or more to the mountains, behind which lay Trout Brook, whilst -ruddy in the warm sunrise rose the vast bare face of Roger’s Rock. - -“I marvel how you did it!” said Lord Howe to his companion. - -“It looks worse than it really is,” answered Roger. “One only needs a steady -head, a good eye for distances, and a firm foot. Nevertheless, I should not -care to try it again. And now what is to be our next move? Langy and his -French have retreated to the woods. He will probably join Montcalm at the Saw -Mills up by the falls. My advice is to cross the forest, dislodge the French, -and make for Ticonderoga. I know positively that Montcalm’s army only numbers -a fourth of ours; of course, Levis may bring up reinforcements, but at present -he is at Montreal, and Vaudreuil may, and probably will, think proper to -detain him there. It is for us to advance without delay.” - -“Then let us do it at once!” said Lord Howe, springing up; and, going to the -group of officers, he imparted Roger’s opinion to them. - -It was immediately decided that the Royal Rangers should take to the woods -under Roger, and that Lord Howe and Major Putman should follow with two -hundred Rangers and scouts, the remainder of the army in four separate columns -bringing up the rear. - -In less than an hour the plan was carried into effect; and soon through the -silent primeval forest an army was groping its way, buried in foliage so thick -that no sound of waggons or artillery could be heard, only “the cawing of the -crows, flapping their black wings over the sea of tree-tops.” The forest was -dense; the way was obstructed by undergrowth, and it was impossible to see the -fallen trees which lay about in every stage of decay. The sun, even when at -its height, could hardly pierce the canopy of boughs. Roger, who was in -advance, was himself fairly puzzled; but he knew the direction he had to take, -and was able to guide his men, fully believing Howe was on the same track; and -so in truth he was, only at a greater distance than Roger had supposed. -Suddenly Lord Howe and those nearest to him heard voices close upon them, and -recognised that they were French. They checked their advance and listened. - -“We are caught in an ambush,” said Lord Howe, “or else it is the advance party -under Langy who are in retreat, and have lost their way. One thing is in our -favour: in the darkness they cannot recognise friend from foe. We must try to -push through them. Let no man speak. If they challenge us the word is -‘Français.’ I’ll give it!” - -He was right in his surmise. It was Langy with his three hundred and fifty men -who had got lost in the woods, and now found themselves in the very centre of -the English army, dividing it, so to speak, Roger and the Royal Rangers in -front, Howe and the remainder of the English army behind. For a few minutes -the two armies were mingled, until a suspicion of the truth dawned on the -French. - -“_Qui vive?_” shouted Langy. - -“_Français!_” came from the English; but Langy was not deceived. A volley of -musketry was the immediate answer. William Parkmann, who was close beside -Howe, saw by the flash of the muskets his chief stagger. He caught him in his -arms, and carried him out of the ranks. Alas! in that second the noble spirit -had winged its flight to another world. Those nearest him had seen him fall, -and the ill news spread like wild-fire. A sort of panic seized the soldiers. -They believed they had fallen into an ambush, and that Montcalm’s whole force -was upon them; but fortunately the Rangers stood firm and fought steadily. The -sound of the musketry reached Roger. A faint inkling of the truth dawned upon -him, and without hesitation he turned round and took the French in the rear. -Thus, between two fires, their position was desperate. Nevertheless, they -fought with unrivalled bravery, and of the three hundred and fifty men of -Langy’s corps, fifty only escaped: one hundred and sixty were made prisoners; -the remainder being killed or drowned in trying to cross the rapids. The -English had lost comparatively few men. But Howe’s death was an irreparable -disaster. “The death of this one man,” a contemporary observes, “was the ruin -of fifteen thousand!” The soul of Abercromby’s army expired with this young -officer; an almost general languor crept over the men. Order and discipline -became lax. Abercromby himself seemed paralysed. Montcalm had retreated to the -base of the peninsula upon which Ticonderoga stands, and had intrenched -himself there. - -The peninsula of Ticonderoga consists of a rocky plateau, with low grounds on -each side, bordering Lake Champlain on the one hand, and the outlet of Lake -St. George on the other. A ridge is formed across the plateau. Montcalm -decided to defend this ridge by abattis. Men and officers worked together, -making a barricade of trees eight or nine feet high; every tree in the -neighbourhood was hewn down as if laid flat by a hurricane. - -Abercromby, fearing Montcalm’s position would be further strengthened by -reinforcements, ordered an immediate attack; but he himself remained at the -Mill, a mile and a half away in the rear. The English were therefore virtually -without a leader, and nothing was left them in the coming struggle but blind, -headlong valour. As they advanced to the attack they could see the top of the -breastwork, but not the men who fought behind it; and when they attempted to -penetrate through the breastwork, or climb over it, they were stopped by -sharpened branches and by a cross fire which poured down upon them. The French -fought with intrepid gaiety, shouting, “Long live our King! Long live our -General!” Montcalm, with his coat off, was everywhere. Six times the English -returned to the attack. Campbell Duncan, laird of Inveraw, belonging to the -42nd regiment, called the “Black Watch,” with others jumped down the abattis -into the midst of the French, and were killed, bayoneted. - -The English lost nineteen hundred men and forty-four officers; the French -three hundred and seventy-seven; but their officers Bourlamaque and -Bougainville were both wounded, while Levis, who came up at the end, had his -hat twice shot through. Abercromby was at last obliged to retreat, and -Ticonderoga remained in the hands of the French. Montcalm, in gratitude to God -for having given him the victory over so brave an enemy, erected a cross on -the spot. - -Roger and his Rangers had taken no active part in the attack upon Ticonderoga; -the loss of Howe hung like a heavy cloud over them. Roger, with Putman, had -remained in the woods, keeping up a border warfare, pursuing the French and -shooting any who came in his way; and they pursued these tactics so -persistently and aggressively that the French at last openly attacked the -Rangers. With the aid of the Indians, they succeeded in taking Putman -prisoner. He was, however, rescued from the hands of the Indians by a French -officer, and conveyed under escort to Ticonderoga, where Montcalm received him -and treated him with kindness. Here he made friends with Colonel Schuyler, who -was also a prisoner, and together they lamented the death of their friend. - -This victory was to be the last great success of the French. Slowly but surely -they were being pushed back upon their great fortress, the key of Canada: -Quebec. Still there was no thought of surrender--Montcalm stood firm at the -helm. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - -NADJII - - -The first grey light of morning was creeping through the white curtains of -Loïs’ bedroom, where she was still sleeping, when suddenly, without any -apparent reason, she awoke and sat straight up. - -“I am certain I heard something or some one,” she said to herself, and bent -forward to listen. For a few seconds there was silence, save for the twitter -of the awakening birds; then there came a slight rattling on the window-pane, -as if earth or dust had been thrown. - -“I knew I was right,” said Loïs. She got out of bed, slipped on a wrapper, -and, bare-footed as she was, went softly across the room to the window; this -she opened noiselessly and bent forward. What a lovely autumn morning it was, -the air so fresh and full of vitality! The many-tinted leaves of the creepers -clambering up the house thrust themselves forward, kissing Loïs’ cheek as if -to wish her “good morrow.” - -It was scarcely three o’clock. A soft white haze hung like a veil over the -land, precursor of a fine day; but this effectually prevented Loïs -distinguishing any distant object. A few of the great forest trees had been -left standing in the garden, and their thick foliage cast deep shadows, whilst -a hedge of oleanders screened the house from the high road leading down to the -village. On the other side was the dark forest, stretching out farther than -the eye could see. - -Still Loïs strained both eyes and ears; some one was there, she felt sure. To -a certain extent she had been trained by Roger and Charles, when, in the days -of her early girlhood, she had accompanied them on their forest excursions; -her hearing was therefore keen and her sight penetrating, and she knew now -that she was being watched though she could distinguish no one. She bent -farther out of the casement window and showed herself. Then from beneath the -shrubs, which grew low down on the ground, she saw the dim outline of a human -face. It was dark, and the black, straight hair hung about it, whilst the eyes -shone forth like coals of fire. Loïs started, and raised her hand in token -that she was aware of the strange presence; instantly the dark face -disappeared, and Loïs closed the casement. - -“What can she want? Has she brought a message from him? Her coming never bodes -good!” Even while uttering these words, she had been hastily dressing herself; -and throwing a dark shawl round her head and taking her shoes in her hand, she -cautiously opened her door and crept down the stairs. It was evidently not the -first time she had thus manœuvred. Passing out by the back door, she kept -close up against the house wall until she reached the corner; there she -waited. No one, unless accustomed to Indian ways, would have heard or seen -anything moving in that garden, and yet before many seconds had elapsed the -figure of a woman rose up beside her. - -“Nadjii!” said Loïs. - -The woman smiled, and, taking the hand Loïs held out to her, stroked it -gently, as if the softness and the whiteness pleased her. - -“Is it bad news, Nadjii?” asked Loïs. - -She nodded. Loïs sighed. - -“Come this way,” she said; and skirting round the house, they came to a sort -of shed, used for putting away garden tools and general rubbish. - -“We shall be quiet here for a time,” said Loïs; “but it is getting late; you -must be quick, Nadjii. Charles is surely not ill?” - -The Indian shook her head. - -“No, _you_ ill,” she said softly, in broken English; and then she continued, -speaking rapidly, “They will come; they will kill and burn. Run, run far -away.” - -Every particle of colour left Loïs’ face. “Do you mean your people are coming -down to murder us? Where is Charles?” she said. - -“Away with the white man on the great sea. Nadjii follow her own people, to -watch for you; he say ‘Go,’ and Nadjii went. My people angry because your -white brother kill them, and the great Onontio angry. He escape always, over -mountains, rivers; no Indian catch him.” - -“Are you speaking of Roger?” said Loïs. - -“Yes,” answered the Indian. “Just kill Indians in wood; Onontio angry, -revenge.” - -“But Roger is not here; he is far away. If your people attack the settlement, -thinking to find him they will be disappointed. When are they coming? Does -Charles know of it?” - -“No, no. They not dare come, if he knew,” said Nadjii. “I tell you, he with -the other white nation. My people revenge.” - -“And when are they going to attack us?” said Loïs, trying to speak calmly. - -“To-night,” answered Nadjii. - -“My God!” said Loïs, burying her face in her hands. - -“No hurt you,” said the Indian gently. “Nadjii watch over you.” - -“What do I care for myself!” exclaimed Loïs passionately. “It is my poor -mother, the children, the whole settlement! Oh, how can Charles let them!” and -she wrung her hands. - -“He not know,” said Nadjii. “Great chief sent for him to help, he go. Indians -promise no hurt you, but Roger kill; Ominipeg angry, they kill too.” - -“And you say they will attack us to-night?” said Loïs. - -“Ugh,”[2] said Nadjii. “I walk all night to tell you, brothers other end of -forest.” - -[Footnote 2: Indian for _yes_.] - -“But if they miss you they will guess you have come to warn us, and be angry,” -said Loïs. - -Nadjii shook her head; then, looking at Loïs, she said, “Run, run quickly. My -brothers will not come while the sun shines; they wait till the -_gushkewau_.”[3] - -[Footnote 3: Indian for _darkness_.] - -“I will get you some milk and bread,” said Loïs, ever thoughtful of others -even in her sore trouble. “Where have you left the child?” she added, in a low -voice. - -Nadjii smiled and pointed to the forest. - -“Are you not afraid to leave him so long?” said Loïs. - -“_Æava-yea_,” said Nadjii softly, meaning thereby “lullaby, he is sleeping.” - -Loïs left her and went back into the house, reappearing with bread and fruit -and a can of milk. She gave them to the Indian, saying,-- - -“You are sure they will not come till night?” - -“Kaween, gushkewau,”[4] answered Nadjii. “Watch!” and once more she pointed to -the forest. - -[Footnote 4: _No indeed, darkness._] - -“You will be there?” asked Loïs. - -“Ugh,” said the Indian. - -“Are they many?” asked Loïs. - -Nadjii stooped, picked up a handful of loose gravel, and let it run slowly -through her fingers. If it were possible, Loïs’ face grew a shade paler. - -“Go now,” she said; “the men on the farm are beginning to stir; they must not -see you. You are faithful at least, and I thank you;” and stooping, she kissed -the Indian woman. - -A flood of light came into the dark face, the glow of a great love surging up -in this savage nature. - -“The Great Spirit tell Nadjii die for you and him!” she said, in a low voice; -and before Loïs could answer she had wrapped the otter skin she wore round -her, and darted away, disappearing behind the trees and bushes with an -incredible swiftness. - -For one second Loïs stood still; then she roused herself. “There is no time to -lose. Shall I rouse Marcus or Father Nat?” She came forth out of the shed, -and, as she did so, found herself face to face with Marcus. - -“Loïs, has anything happened?” he asked, looking anxiously at her pale face. - -“Nadjii has been here,” she answered. “The Indians are going to attack us -to-night.” - -The fear was so constantly present with them all, that the statement did not -elicit even an exclamation of surprise from Marcus; he only said,-- - -“I knew it must come sooner or later. I only wish you women had accepted -William Parkmann’s offer, and were safe at Boston.” - -“Neither mother nor I would have gone. You know it, Marcus. More than ever are -we bound to stay by our people.” - -“Well, you must go now; it won’t do for you to be caught by the redskins. -We’ve kept the cattle pretty close. The best of the herds can be got in -easily, and then we must defend the old place as best we can; but the first -thing to be done is to get the women and children out of the place. I’ll go -and call Father Nat.” - -The inhabitants of the settlement were beginning to show signs of life. Cocks -crowing, dogs barking, and the soft lowing of the cattle came gently up from -the valley above which the two homesteads stood. - -Without further speech the brother and sister parted, Marcus crossing over to -Father Nat, whom he met on the threshold of his house. - -“Well, lad, what’s brought you over so early?” asked Nathaniel, taking his -pipe from his mouth. “We’re going to have a fine day. This sort of weather is -good for the land; we shall have a splendid autumn.” - -“I doubt if there’ll be much left to rejoice over by this time to-morrow,” -answered Marcus. “They’re coming at last, Father Nat!” - -“Who? The Indians?” exclaimed Nathaniel. - -“Who else should I mean?” said Marcus. “Loïs has seen Nadjii, Charles’ squaw, -and she says they will be down upon the settlement to-night.” - -There was a moment’s silence; then Nat said, “We must lose no time; the -waggons must be got out, and the women and children sent off. They’ll be safe -before nightfall at Zanisville. Quick! send one of the men to John Cleveland, -and do you go down to the village, and give the alarm; but above all things, -there must be no noise--the red men have their spies about, you may be sure. -The women must be got out of the village quietly, through the valley on the -other side,” and he turned away. - -Loïs had already spoken to her mother, and Father Nat found Martha standing in -the kitchen with the two younger girls, Marie and Susan, clinging to her. - -“The waggons will be ready in half an hour,” he said, “but you must go off on -foot to avoid observation. They will meet you on the other side of the valley -and take you to Zanisville, where you will be in safety. Quick! make up your -bundles and go. The Indians are coming through the woods; happily, they be -still a good way off.” - -“And you?” said Martha. - -“Forewarned is forearmed,” answered Nathaniel. “We shall not be attacked in -the daytime; we are well prepared. I hope we may teach these savages a lesson. -It would have been different if they had surprised us. You need not go farther -than Zanisville. We shall be sending for you as soon as it is safe to do so.” - -“I thought it was decided we were to remain,” said Loïs. - -“As long as it was safe to keep you,” said Nathaniel. “Now the care and -thought for you would be a hindrance to us men. I mean to give these savages a -peppering which they shall remember, and you’re best out of the way. We’ve -settled it long ago. We’re not taken unawares. The women and children will be -escorted by some thirty of our men over the hills; the waggons will go round -to meet you, and take you the rest of the way: there’ll be no danger then; -they’ll be too busy with us. Don’t make any trouble; it’s got to be as I say, -Loïs.” - -In view of an attack of the Indians, the elders had arranged that a certain -number of men should be told off to protect the women and screen their -retreat. They had now the advantage of not being surprised, and having time -before them. Some of the women were very unwilling to go, not believing the -rumour--there had been so many false alarms--but the men insisted, and soon -little groups were seen crossing the valley and directing their steps through -the mountain gorges towards the spot where the waggons were to be in waiting. -So numerous were the outlets to the valley, the roads were so zigzag, and the -country was so thickly wooded, that it was easy for the fugitives to pass out -unperceived; besides, the Indians were still at a great distance, separated -from the settlement by a dense forest. - -By noon the women and children were far on their way; some had joined company, -and on the whole they were not as depressed as they might have been. In two or -three days they hoped to be recalled. The settlement they were going to was -comparatively at a short distance, though better protected than the Marshes, -which lay quite on the borderland. - -Nathaniel Boscowen and the men generally were in good spirits; they had plenty -of ammunition and were prepared. The great danger of these night attacks was -in being surprised, and, thanks to Nadjii, this had been avoided. Very quietly -and without any display they took their precautions. To all outward appearance -the usual daily life went on: the men drove the cattle into the meadows, they -worked in the fields, some even fished in the river, and towards evening they -returned to the village, and apparently rested from their labours, standing -smoking and talking outside their houses, and a few gathered in groups on the -square in front of the church; but a close observer might have noticed that -there was a strained look on most of the men’s faces, as if they were -listening for some distant sound, and their eyes seemed to turn instinctively -towards the dark forest. In the kitchen of Omega Marsh sat Father Nat, Marcus, -the minister, and half a dozen of the principal men of the settlement. At -Alpha Marsh lights were lit when night fell, and for some time figures moved -to and fro in the rooms, so that its uninhabited condition should not be -perceptible from outside. - -The clock had struck nine, when suddenly the kitchen door opened, and some one -entered. There was no mistaking who it was. Father Nat and Marcus both rose. - -“Loïs!” they exclaimed together, in a tone of reproach. - -She went straight up to the elder man, and, laying her hands on his shoulder, -said,-- - -“Dear Father Nat, my place is surely beside you and Marcus. I am the eldest of -my race. That my mother should seek safety in flight for the sake of Marie and -Susie was right. I knew she would not go without me, so I went; but when we -got into the waggons and she was safely off, I slipped out and came home. She -will probably not miss me for some hours, so she will be spared all anxiety.” - -“I am sorry you have done this thing, Loïs,” said Father Nat anxiously. - -“I am not,” said Loïs; “and now give me some supper. I have had nothing since -morning, and it has been a long tramp.” - -“It has indeed,” said the men present, looking at her with affectionate pride. -They had all known her from her birth, and loved her almost as well as their -own children, and somehow they were glad to have her back amongst them. - -“Are you ready?” asked Loïs. - -“Yes, we are quite ready,” answered Father Nat. Loïs ate the supper they -hastened to place before her, and then told them something of the day’s -journey. - -“We saw no one on the road,” she said; “it seems difficult to imagine such -danger is threatening us.” - -“Nevertheless, I have heard sounds in the forest which tell me plainly the -Indians are not far off,” said Nathaniel. - -“Now,” said Loïs, rising, “I will lie down and sleep for an hour; there is yet -time.” - -“Do,” said Father Nat, and Loïs went to her own room and knelt beside her -white bed and prayed, as she had done all the years of her life, from -childhood to womanhood. Then, throwing herself on her bed, she slept. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX - -THE ATTACK - - -The lights were extinguished; the inhabitants of the Marshes were apparently -sunk in slumber. It was near upon midnight, but the moon was shining so -brightly that it seemed almost as if it were daylight. - -Loïs had risen, and, standing in the darkness at a window of an upper room at -Omega Marsh, looking down into the valley, was almost tempted to think she -must have been mistaken, that her interview with Nadjii was an evil dream, the -scene was so peacefully lovely. The church spire rose in the midst of the -surrounding houses. She knew every one of them; their inhabitants had been -familiar to her since her childhood, from the old grandfather to the toddling -child she had helped to carry on the road that morning. By the light of the -moon and stars she saw the outline of the hills, and farther on the mountain -ridges; whilst the river gleamed here and there as it wound through the -meadows. But what riveted her gaze was that dark, impenetrable forest. What -did it conceal? She knew full well that all around the garden men belonging to -the village lay on the ground watching, even as she was watching. Would to God -it might be in vain! but Nadjii had spoken, and Loïs had implicit confidence -in the Indian woman. - -Suddenly, without warning, a loud shout arose. Then Loïs knew the enemy was at -hand, and in the space of a few seconds the settlement was surrounded. The -Indians poured down into the valley like a flock of locusts. Nat had issued -the order that no man was to stir until the savages should have passed the -boundaries, and then to fire on them simultaneously. Up towards the Marshes -they swarmed, never doubting that the inhabitants were sleeping; but they were -soon undeceived--a murderous fire came pouring down upon them. Shrieks, howls -of pain and anger, filled the air, and the dark figures, with their waving -headgears, leapt the barriers, striking out to the right and left with their -murderous hatchets. - -To Loïs, as she shrank back, it was as if all the devils of hell had been -suddenly let loose. Steadily the fire continued; but so numerous were the -assailants, that even as they fell others poured in over them, filling up the -gaps. The settlement was surrounded on all sides. The besieged were not long -in perceiving this, for the triumphant yells of the red men were heard on -every side. - -“They are too many for us, Marcus,” said Father Nat; “they are murdering our -people wholesale down yonder. Good Heavens! they are setting fire to the -barns; they’ll burn the village down!” - -“I’m afraid they will,” said Marcus. Even whilst speaking they had not ceased -firing. With a score of other men they were crouching behind the trees in the -garden, just in front of Omega Marsh. Other groups were scattered here and -there, protecting the homestead. The dead and wounded lay around, but the -assailants still came on, the circle narrowing as they pressed forward. - -“Where is Loïs?” asked Father Nat. - -“Here,” she answered; and raising her gun, she fired over his shoulder at an -Indian, who had leapt to within a yard of them. - -“We must back into the house and bar the doors,” she said; “it is our only -chance.” - -“I think she’s right,” said the minister, and slowly they began to move -backwards. A yell of delight from the savages greeted this retrograde -movement, and one leapt forward, and, raising his tomahawk, would have brought -it down on Father Nat’s head, if a thrust from a knife had not made the -uplifted arm drop helpless, and with a shriek of agony the man sprang back. At -the same moment Loïs felt herself lifted from the ground and carried into the -house. With a sudden rush the others followed her. To bolt and bar the doors -and windows of the ground floor was the work of a few seconds. Some of the men -had ascended to the first story, and were firing from the windows upon the -savages. - -“We can only hold out a certain time,” said John Cleveland; “and even that -depends upon their being kind enough not to set fire to the place.” - -It seemed very unlikely that the Indians would refrain from doing so. The -village was burning; and by the light of the flames the terrible fight which -was going on below and around was clearly visible. - -It was evident they had some reason for not setting fire to the homestead, -probably the desire of taking the inhabitants alive for the purpose of -torturing them “Father Nat” more especially, their anger being directed -against Roger. The house was strongly built, the doors and windows secured by -heavy iron bars, and so far the savages had been kept at bay by the incessant -firing of the beleaguered. Suddenly they appeared to retreat, making a rush -round to the back of the house. At the same moment Nadjii stood by the side of -Loïs. - -“See!” she whispered. “Roger;” and even as she spoke, running swiftly up the -hill with shouts of “Hurrah, hurrah!” they saw the well-known red shirts of -the Rangers. - -“Saved,” said Father Nat, turning round quickly. “My brave lad!” He had hardly -uttered the words when he was felled to the earth, and the room was filled -with savages, yelling, hewing to the right hand and to the left. The settlers -were grouped together in a corner of the room, keeping the savages at bay with -their guns and rifles. - -The last thing Loïs saw was Nadjii, who, thrusting her behind her, with blood -flowing down her own half-naked body, held aloft a glittering steel knife -stained with gore. - -The sun rose upon a scene of utter devastation. The village of Marshwood lay -in ruins; upwards of one hundred men had been killed, or, worse still, were -missing. - -Almost the only house which stood uninjured was Alpha Marsh; evidently the -Indians had their reasons for respecting it. Their own loss was immense. The -sudden appearance of the Rangers had been totally unexpected. When the savages -had forced an entrance at the back and had swarmed into the house, Roger and -his men took them in the rear and cut them to pieces, at the same time as they -were being fired on by the besieged; retreat was therefore impossible, and -they perished to a man. A few threw themselves out of the windows in the hope -of escaping, but were either killed in the fall or bayoneted by their -opponents stationed below; the same thing went on throughout the village. In -less than an hour after the Rangers appeared, the Indians were swept away, -leaving their dead and wounded to the mercy of the conquerors. - -Of the group of men who had defended Omega Marsh only a few escaped unwounded. -When the fight was at an end, and Roger forced his way over the dead into the -room where the besieged had taken refuge, an awful sight met his eyes. Father -Nat lay apparently killed, Loïs was close beside him senseless, and almost -covering them with her naked body, gashed with wounds, lay Nadjii. - -The scene was one of indescribable horror. For a second Roger’s spirit failed -him. The survivors, faint and exhausted, hardly believing they were saved, -still stood with their weapons in their hands. Marcus, badly wounded himself, -was striving to get at Loïs, but the Indian woman’s body had to be moved -first, and he had no strength left. Stern and agonised was Roger’s face, as -John Cleveland, clasping his hand, said, with a sob in his voice,-- - -“He knew you had come to the rescue. A minute sooner and you would have saved -him.” - -“Are you sure he is dead?” said Roger, in a hoarse voice, as he helped Marcus -to move Nadjii and Loïs; and then he raised his father in his arms. Apparently -dead he certainly was; but the face was so swollen and disfigured by a ghastly -wound on the forehead that it was impossible to say positively. - -“He and the women had better be carried over to Alpha Marsh,” he said; “the -flames are spreading below. I must go and help my men.” - -At that moment Loïs opened her eyes, and consciousness came back to her -immediately. She sat up and looked around. - -“Oh, Roger!” she exclaimed; and for the first time for years he did not turn -away from her, but asked,-- - -“Are you hurt, Loïs?” - -She tried to rise. John Cleveland gave her his hand. - -“No,” she answered, “I think not; it is their blood,” and she shivered, -pointing to her blood-stained garments. - -“Alpha Marsh is uninjured; we are going to carry Father Nat there.” - -“And she?” said Loïs, looking down at Nadjii. - -“If you wish it,” answered Roger, turning away. - -And so Nathaniel was laid in the best chamber of Alpha Marsh, and Nadjii in -Loïs’ own bedroom. - -Nokomis, the Huron woman who had served Nathaniel ever since he rescued her -from another tribe of Indians, who had slain her son and her husband, came out -of hiding, and with a few other women, some old, some sick, who had refused to -leave the settlement, set to work to tend the wounded. - -“He no dead, she no dead,” said Nokomis, after washing the blood from Father -Nat’s head and body, and, with Loïs’ help, performing the same office for -Nadjii. “But,” she added, shaking her head, “they both die; no meda[5] save -her.” - -[Footnote 5: Medicine-man.] - -“But you are as good as a meda,” said Lois. “You know of herbs and salves, -Nokomis; you must try what you can do.” - -“For my Nosa[6] perhaps,” she said, as she bound up the ghastly wound which -had lain Father Nat’s head open; “but for the Nadjii, she dead;” and yet as -Loïs bent over the dark face, and held a feather to her lips, she knew that -Nadjii still lived. - -[Footnote 6: Master.] - -“Oh, Nokomis,” she said, tears running down her face, “she tried to save us -all; if I am living it is because she stood between me and death. She has a -brave heart.” - -“She is a chief’s daughter,” answered Nokomis, with certain dignity; “but she -must die; her hour is come.” - -Suddenly a thought struck Loïs; her pale face flushed. - -The child--where had Nadjii left the child? - - - - -CHAPTER XX - -“LIGHTEN OUR DARKNESS.” - - -“How did you know they were coming against us?” said Minister Cleveland. “We -heard a fortnight ago that you were up on the shores of Lake Champlain.” - -“I was not far from there,” answered Roger. “We have had a hard time of it -lately, harassed on all sides by the French, the Canadians, and Indians. I had -drawn my men off, to give them a few days’ rest; for in our last skirmish we -had lost several men, and others had been wounded. I was lying half-asleep and -half-awake at the foot of a tree one night, when I became conscious of some -one creeping round from behind. In a second I was on foot, and at the same -moment an Indian youth rose up before me. I seized him, and knew at once he -was an Iroquois. I had seen him before; he was Nadjii’s half-brother. - -“‘What are you doing here?’ I asked. - -“‘Nadjii tell me come,’ he answered, in his native dialect. ‘Find the “Brave -Heart,”’ she said, ‘and tell him to be near the old Nosa before the moon is at -its full.’ - -“‘There’s mischief brewing against the Marshes then?’ I asked. - -“‘I do not know; Nadjii say come,’ he answered. - -“‘Where is she? and where is the white chief, her husband?’ I asked. - -“‘Nadjii watch the white maiden. The white chief with the white men up at the -City on the Rock.’ - -“Then I knew that Charles was with General Montcalm, and that a tribe, -probably the one I had escaped from, was about to attack the Marshes out of -revenge. - -“‘It is well,’ I answered. ‘You stay with me. If you speak truly, good; if you -deceive us----’ and I made a well-known sign of punishment. He only smiled, -and sat down on the ground in token of consent. - -“An hour later we were on our way; but it is a long journey, and we had to -keep clear of the Indians. The nearer we got to Marshwood, the more we became -aware of their presence. We had to take a circuitous path, which delayed us -and made us late.” - -“Yes,” said the minister; “but for that poor creature dying upstairs, we -should all of us have been murdered in cold blood.” - -This conversation had taken place in Alpha kitchen, where, late at night, the -two men found themselves alone for the first time: the call upon both of them -from within and without had been incessant. They had not only to attend to the -living, but had to arrange for the removal of the dead bodies of the -killed--no light task. - -Father Nat had shown unmistakable signs of life, but was still insensible. A -messenger had been despatched to the nearest town for a doctor, and was -expected to return next day; in the meanwhile Nokomis had brewed herbs, and, -with Loïs, done what she could for the sufferers. Now Loïs was watching beside -Nadjii. It was midnight, and still they had no news of the child. Where had -the mother hidden it when she came to the rescue? With Marcus’ help Loïs had -searched the house and outhouses, and assured herself it was not there. It lay -probably in the forest in the trunk of some tree. - -Evidently having become possessed of the secret of the tribe, Nadjii had -travelled alone with her child through the forest, crossing rivers and rapids -as only an Indian woman could, to reach the Marshes in time and warn the -inmates. On the night of the attack she must have lain the child to sleep in -some hidden place; but where? It would surely die if its mother could not -tell. - -Nadjii was wounded unto death, and Loïs knew it; a few hours at most and she -would cease to live, carrying her secret away with her, and her child’s hope -of life! Loïs, as she knelt beside Nadjii, seemed to hear the wailing of the -infant, the helpless cry for mother’s milk and mother’s kisses. “O Father, -have mercy on the innocent babe,” she prayed; “let it not die this terrible -death! My poor Nadjii has been faithful and true, and has laid down her life -for her husband’s people, moved by the great love she bears him.” - -Truly love, the great purifier, entering this poor heathen’s heart, had taught -her many things, lightening her darkness! To her, though she knew it not, had -been revealed the primary laws of love, obedience, and self-sacrifice! Her -husband had bidden her watch over Loïs and his mother, and report to him if -harm threatened them; and she had done what she could--she had laid down her -life for them. All these thoughts crowded through Loïs’ mind as she knelt and -prayed. She had all the early Puritan’s faith in prayer. No conflicting doubts -troubled her. God would surely hear her! - -“Spare the child, O God!” she repeated again and yet again, her clasped hands -stretched out over the body of the dying mother. Her eyes were closed, her -pale face raised, she was as one wrestling with God. Suddenly a word fell on -her ear, “_Nenemoosha_.”[7] She turned quickly and looked at the Indian woman. -Her eyes were open, and from out the swollen lips came in a voice almost -inaudible the same word repeated, “Nenemoosha.” Tears sprang to Loïs’ eyes. -She understood the meaning; and, bending over Nadjii, said, “Tell me where he -is and I will fetch him.” The answer came, but in quick Indian words; and -though Loïs understood a few, she could not follow her. - -[Footnote 7: Sweetheart.] - -“Wait! I will fetch some one,” she said; but before leaving Nadjii she gave -her a cordial and damped the cloth that was bound round her head, whispering, - -“Never fear, Nadjii; we will find Nenemoosha.” Then she left her, smiling back -at her as she went, though her heart was very sore. She had thought to fetch -Nokomis, but the old Indian had been called away from Father Nat’s bedside to -tend another wounded man, and had left an ancient village crone in charge. -Hastily Loïs ran into the kitchen, where John Cleveland the minister and Roger -were together. - -“Roger,” said Loïs, going up to him, “Nadjii, the squaw, has spoken, but I -cannot understand her; you must come. She left her and his child somewhere in -the forest when she came to our rescue. You must go for it. Come!” - -Roger started back from her, anger flashing from his eyes. - -“A child of such a brood! Better let it die, Loïs. Would you nurture a viper -in your bosom?” he said. - -“It is my brother’s child, and its mother is dying for me!” said Loïs -passionately, and she burst into tears. - -A great struggle was visible in the hunter’s face. He hated this Indian woman, -who, to his mind, had helped to decoy his friend. Why should he save her -child? - -“She is dying; fetch the child for her, Roger, and then I will depart with it, -and you shall see our faces no more!” and Loïs threw herself on her knees -before him. “By our old love,” she murmured. He turned away and strode up to -the room where he knew they had laid Nadjii. Loïs and the minister followed. - -All the soul of the dying woman was reflected in her eyes. When she saw Roger -she strove to lift herself, but Loïs sprang to her side and laid her hand upon -her, saying,-- - -“Tell him where to find Nenemoosha. He will go for him,” she said. - -Nadjii lay motionless, wounded from head to foot, tortured with awakening -agony. - -Loïs moistened her lips, and smiled down on her dark sister as an angel might. - -Then Nadjii spoke, quickly, gaspingly, looking at Roger. When she ceased, he -bowed his head and left the room. - -“Shall you be able to find it?” asked the minister. - -“Yes,” answered Roger. “She has hidden it in the trunk of a tree about a mile -distant, and she has marked the trees leading to the one where the child lies -by an arrow cut in the bark; if it be still there I shall find it;” and he -strode out of the house. - -In less than an hour he came back, but his arms were empty. - -“They have stolen it,” he said to Loïs, who met him. “She had made a bed of -leaves for it, and I saw where it had been; but I also saw the track of a -man’s foot round the tree, and the hands of a man had touched the child’s -resting-place. It is gone.” - -“What shall I say to her?” said Loïs, wringing her hands and weeping. - -“You will not need to say anything,” answered the minister; “she is even now -passing away. Come.” - -They re-entered the room, and truly they knew that death was there before -them. The veil was slowly being drawn across things earthly for the poor -Indian woman; her eyes were already dim, her senses failing. The minister -knelt down and prayed that the departing soul might awaken in another world to -new knowledge and new light; and even as he prayed the answer came. A flash of -light shot from Nadjii’s eyes, and a cry went up from her lips, “Jesus! -Nenemoosha!” and she looked straight before her, as if she saw a vision; and -so looking, the light died out of her face, and Nadjii slept. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI - -AT THE HELM - - -After his repulse from Ticonderoga, General Abercromby made no marked effort -to retrieve his position; his troops were disheartened, and fearing another -attack by the French, he hastened to retire down Lake St. George, and to -protect himself in an intrenched camp. In October, after the taking of -Louisburg, General Amherst joined him; but it was then too late in the year to -renew active service. Montcalm with his army withdrew for the winter to -Montreal, and the English returned to Albany. - -The English were, however, slowly gaining ground. Fort Duquesne, after immense -labour and many hardships, was wrested by Brigadier-General Forbes from the -French, and re-baptised, in honour of the great statesman, Pittsburg. Fort -Frontenac was also captured, and this was more especially important as it gave -the English a footing on Lake Ontario. And so the year 1758 came to a close, -and the nations knew, both at home and abroad, that the great contest was -likely to be fought out during the ensuing year; but whilst the land lay under -its white covering of snow, with ice-bound rivers, there was peace, or rather -a cessation of hostilities, and the leaders at home and abroad looked around -to see who were the men most fitted to place at the helm. - -Pitt had for some time past had his eye on a man who had already distinguished -himself at the siege of Louisburg, James Wolfe. After the taking of that -fortress he had desired to push on at once to Quebec; but he was overruled by -the other generals, and a far more disagreeable task was allotted to him. It -was considered necessary to destroy all the French settlements on the Gulf of -St. Lawrence, and he was deputed to carry out the order. - -It is difficult for us now to realise the extent of misery this decision -entailed; certainly it was more especially repugnant to a sensitive, humane -nature such as Wolfe’s. It meant laying waste hundreds of pleasant homesteads, -driving their inhabitants forth shelterless! The wailing of women and -children, the low, bitter curses of the men--all this had to be borne with -apparent stoicism. Always delicate, already suffering from the disease to -which he was to succumb, Wolfe’s health entirely broke down under the severe -mental and moral strain, and it was found necessary to grant him a prolonged -leave of absence. He immediately set sail for England, hoping in the quiet of -his home and his much-loved mother’s society to recruit his shattered health. -His was a peculiar nature, a strange mixture of tenderness and passion; loving -and sensitive beyond measure, yet at times strangely fierce and stern. His -mother was wont to say he was a living barometer, his spirits rising and -falling with every change of weather. - -With such a character it was hardly possible for him to have been what we -generally term a happy man; there were too many contradictions in his nature. -When still quite young he either was, or imagined himself to be, in love; the -result was a bitter disappointment, and for some time afterwards he plunged -into a life of dissipation. At the early age of twenty-three he was already -lieutenant-colonel (he had entered the army at fourteen), and was sent in -garrison to Inverness. Here he remained five years, a great favourite with -both his men and fellow-officers, but so entirely isolated from society that, -as he expressed it himself, “He feared lest he should become a ruffian.” Once -more he went to the other extreme, like a pendulum, and for six months took up -his residence in Paris, devoting himself to the study of the French language -and to the acquirement of every social accomplishment. - -He was, we are told by those who knew him most intimately, possessed of only -moderate abilities; but his diligence and perseverance were so remarkable that -he accomplished anything he set his heart upon. Effeminacy was hateful to him; -he was essentially a high-principled man, with a strong sense of duty, ever -faithful to his ideal of what a true soldier ought to be--“always ready to -meet the fate we cannot shun, and die gracefully when my hour comes,” he said -on one occasion, and truly he carried this axiom out through life unto death! - -In personal appearance he might almost have been considered an ugly man. He -had a retreating forehead and chin; his nose was upturned, and formed with -other features the point of an obtuse triangle. His mouth was by no means -shaped to express resolution. The redeeming point in his face was his eyes; -they were clear, bright, and piercing, full of spirit. His hair was red, and, -according to the custom of the time, tied in a queue, and he always wore a -black three-cornered hat. His physique denoted less than ordinary strength. He -is represented with narrow shoulders, slender body, long thin limbs cased in -scarlet frock-coat with broad cuffs and ample skirts, which reached down to -his knees. Such was the outward seeming and character of the man who played so -conspicuous a part in a war which ultimately gave to England one of her -richest and most loyal colonies. - -It was with a sense of relief that after the capture of Louisburg Wolfe set -sail for England. His experiences of the last few months had impressed him so -painfully that he hoped never to return to Canada. He had strong domestic -tastes, his affection for his mother was the dominant passion of his life, and -he had been but a few weeks in England when he proposed to and was accepted by -a Miss Lowther; and so life seemed to be dawning for him in roseate hues. He -was only thirty-three years of age, and was beloved both at home and abroad; -his delicate health was the only shadow on his horizon, but it was hoped that -perfect rest and good nursing would restore that. Therefore, throughout that -winter Wolfe remained at home, perfectly happy, ignoring the fact that William -Pitt’s eagle eye had already marked him out, and that his name was destined to -be handed down to posterity among those men who have deserved well of their -country. - -But, whilst physically Wolfe was being thus strengthened for the fray, his -great opponent was losing heart. Throughout that winter Montcalm recognised -more than ever the many discordant elements by which he was surrounded. - -The Governor’s jealousy had increased; he took every opportunity in his power -for disparaging Montcalm, even going the length of demanding from the Court at -Versailles that he should be recalled. But indifferent as the French king and -his ministers were to the real interests of Canada, they were still -sufficiently clear-sighted to know that General Montcalm was the right man in -the right place, and to a certain extent to appreciate the services he had -rendered the state. They therefore raised his rank to that of -lieutenant-general, as also his officers Bourlamaque and Levis, who were made -colonel and major-general. - -But in his own heart Montcalm knew that when the Forts of Niagara, Crown -Point, and Duquesne fell into the hands of the English, the end could not be -far off. Little by little he was becoming isolated and cut off on the St. -Lawrence, the British holding the command of the seas. He was possessed, -however, of great military genius, and displayed to the last extraordinary -skill in defending the French possessions. - -During the winter the social life at Montreal was wholly in contradiction to -the General’s feelings, so that he withdrew himself entirely from society, -remaining in his own quarters, occupied with combining plans for the spring -campaign, which he foresaw would decide the fate of Canada. This conduct was -of itself a cause of complaint against him, being a reproach to Bigot and his -associates, in whose palace at Quebec every night high revelry reigned. Supper -parties, dances, and masquerades were of nightly occurrence; and worse still, -gambling was carried to such a pitch that the results had in many cases to be -hushed up. - -Mercèdes lived in her rooms at the Intendance, ignorant of what was going on -below. Like her father, retiring more and more from public life, seldom seen -except on her way to church or on her visits to the poor, without knowing it -she was a sort of hostage for her father. Probably she would not have been -allowed to remain so entirely in the background but for Madame Péan’s open -protection. That lady reigned supreme in the gay world at Quebec, and she -would not suffer her protégée to be annoyed. “She is in my charge; she shall -not be molested,” she was wont to say when it was hinted by the government -officials that it would strengthen their arguments against Montcalm if his -daughter could be persuaded to join in their revelries. - -“It is quite useless,” Madame Péan declared; “she would not understand our -ways. You would scare her quite away.” - -But one night the revelry had attained even wilder proportions than usual. A -sumptuous supper succeeded a masquerade ball. Towards morning the guests -dispersed, and only about twenty intimates remained. Some one suddenly said,-- - -“What a joke it would be if we were to surprise Monsieur de Vaudreuil and -General Montcalm at Montreal!” - -There was a general laugh. - -“Why not do so?” said Intendant Bigot. “We could be there in three days’ -sleighing. If it would afford the ladies any pleasure, they have but to -command. I am their humble servant.” - -“It would cost a fortune,” said Madame Péan. - -“You are growing economical, my dear,” retorted Madame Marin; “there is the -king’s exchequer! I vote we do it, and we will take Mademoiselle Mercèdes with -us to see her father. This gentle attention will soften the old bear, and he -will not have the heart to reproach us. What do you say to my plan, Monsieur -Bigot?” - -“Only what I said before, that if you ladies wish it we will start at midday, -reach Pointe-aux-Trembles in time for supper, sleep there, and go on the next -day to St. Anne. Our next halt might be at the Isle des Castors, where Rigaud -would entertain us, and finally Montreal. If you will decide at once, I will -despatch couriers to have everything in readiness. What are _your_ wishes, -Madame?” he added, addressing himself to Madame Péan, whose beauty and -accomplishments always ensured her the first place in every project for the -general amusement. - -“I am willing,” she said carelessly. - -“And you will persuade Mademoiselle Mercèdes to join us?” insisted Madame -Marin. - -“If she knows she is likely to see her father she will not refuse,” answered -Madame Péan. “She will go in my sleigh.” - -“I wish you joy!” said one of her lady friends. “What you see in that little -dull thing, to have her always about with you, is more than I can imagine. -Why, I saw you out sleighing with her and that Indian hunter, Charles -Langlade, last week, near the village of Beauport. Are you trying to make a -match of it?” - -“I wish I could,” answered Madame Péan; “but you know as well as I do he has -his Indian squaw. Now, good-night, or rather good-morning; I am off to get a -few hours’ sleep.” - -There was a general leave-taking, and it was agreed they should all meet at -midday on the morrow; and so the ladies retired, but the gentlemen remained in -consultation as to ways and means. - -“I intend it to be a grand affair,” said Bigot ostentatiously. “We will spare -no expense, eh, Marin?” - -“Certainly not! Why should we? It is necessary for the good of the country. -You require to see Vaudreuil; De Martet and Varin have to look after the army -and navy supplies. We are going on the king’s service, therefore the king must -pay. Long live the King!” - -“Long live our Gracious Master the King!” they all shouted in high spirits, -and forthwith began arranging for the projected excursion. The light of the -dim November morning was slowly creeping into the palace when they separated -to snatch a brief repose. - - - - -CHAPTER XXII - -HOME NEWS - - -“Go to Montreal and see my dear father? You do not really mean it!” exclaimed -Mercèdes, clapping her hands in sheer childish delight. - -“Indeed I do. We are starting in a few hours,” said Madame Pèan, smiling. “Can -you be ready?” - -“Ready? I should think so indeed! I have nothing to do,” said Mercèdes. “I -suppose Marthe will stay here. You will not mind being alone for a few days, -shall you?” she said, turning to her nurse. - -“No, Mademoiselle, assuredly not. Go and amuse yourself; your life is dull -enough, and yet the General----” - -“Oh, Marthe!” interrupted Mercèdes reproachfully. “Do you think I would care -to go if it were not to see my father, and perhaps have news of the dear ones -at Candiac? It is so long since I heard from them.” - -“Of course, of course,” said Madame Péan. “I will take good care of her, -Marthe; and only think how delighted the General will be to see his daughter.” - -“I hope the General will be satisfied,” answered Marthe doubtfully; “but he -particularly desired I should never leave Mademoiselle, and you know he does -not approve----” - -“That is enough, Marthe; I will take all responsibility on myself; and, after -all, Mademoiselle is in my charge, and you know, I think, by this time, that I -love her dearly.” Then turning to Mercèdes, Madame Péan continued, “You will -be ready by twelve o’clock, dearest. Mind you have plenty of furs and wraps of -all sorts. It is freezing hard; it is grand weather. Fancy sleighing from -Quebec to Montreal! It will be something to say one has accomplished such a -feat! Now, good-bye; come down to my rooms when you are ready. Adieu, Marthe. -You need not be anxious about your nursling.” And she left them. - -Two years and a half had elapsed since Mercèdes first set foot in Canada, and -from a mere girl she had developed into a woman. She was small and slender, -and still looked very young; indeed, though she was now eighteen years of age, -she was but little altered. She had more colour, and was healthier in -appearance, which, with her bright dark eyes and soft smile, made her almost -good-looking. She and Marthe had settled down to their quiet way of living, -and by degrees had been nearly forgotten by the outside world. The General had -ceased to worry about her, and was only too glad when he visited Quebec, which -he did not do sometimes for several months at a time, to find Mercèdes, with -her ready sympathy and warm affection. It was the only real relaxation he knew -of; and many a happy hour was passed in those little rooms overlooking the -convent. By degrees they had come to a sort of tacit agreement that she should -not enter the convent until the war was ended. If the truth must be told, -Mercèdes experienced a sense of relief when this was decided; she had grown to -love Canada, for the defence of which her father was giving the best years of -his life, and all the genius with which nature had endowed him. - -She had made many excursions in the neighbourhood of Quebec, sometimes in -company with Madame Péan, sometimes alone with Marthe, and was never tired of -admiring the lovely scenery. The village of Beauport, with its whitewashed -dwellings, situated on the curving shore of the river St. Charles, and -stretching down to the rocky gorge of Montmorenci, charmed her. The fields on -either side were studded with huts and Indian wigwams. In the short summer and -early autumn the varied colour of the trees lent great brilliancy to the -landscape. The hills, which had shrunk almost out of sight on one hand, -looking like a long purple line against the horizon, drew suddenly so near the -shore that at one point they seemed to rise almost out of the water. - -In the winter the scene was changed, but she loved it still; the joyous sleigh -bells, making music as the sleighing parties flew through the villages and -hamlets lying beneath their snowy shroud, filled the girl’s heart with -gladness, and she realised to the full the joy of living. And so time had -passed quickly with her, and she had been happy, with the quiet, unreasoning -happiness of the young, to whom the past has brought little sadness, and upon -whom the future smiles with all the enchanting fascination of unbounded hope. -And then Mercèdes was not given to anticipate trouble. Her strong religious -sentiments gave her a calm faith which never deserted her, and next to God she -believed in her father. The struggle might be long, might be difficult, but -assuredly he would come forth a conqueror. - -It was with feelings of unmitigated delight that she prepared for her journey; -but her astonishment was great when she became aware of the proportions the -party had assumed. When the hour for their departure came, no less than twenty -sleighs were drawn up along the length of the street. Crowds gathered to see -them start; but amidst the general laughter and mirth some bitter speeches -were overheard, such as, “The Intendant, M. Bigot, was going to Montreal to -see the Governor and the General. It was a strange necessity that he must -needs have such a goodly company of ladies and gentlemen to escort him.” - -But when M. Bigot appeared with Mercèdes and Madame Péan, there was a -respectful silence. It was the great General’s daughter he was conducting; of -course it must be all right. Thus the effect he had anticipated was attained; -and he took his place beside the ladies in high spirits, bowing and smiling on -the people, addressing one or two by name, and thus by word and manner -propitiating them; so that he drove off with the good wishes of those who at -first had seemed hostile, and to the friendly cry of “Bon voyage.” - -The three days’ journey resembled a royal progress. Couriers had been sent on -in advance, and at each resting-place the most elaborate preparations had been -made for the reception of the company. Mercèdes was bewildered. She was the -object of the most marked attention; she had never been so surrounded, so -courted in her life. When they reached Montreal, almost the whole population -turned out to see them; but from amidst the crowd murmurs of discontent were -rife at such unnecessary display on the part of the Government, when the -people were oppressed by taxes, and the most ordinary articles of daily -consumption were at famine prices. Anger, and even threats, were not lacking. -Mercèdes was startled by the cold severity of her father’s manner when he -became aware of her presence. - -“You here, Mercèdes!” he said, as she threw her arms round his neck. - -“Yes, father. Are you not glad to see me?” she answered, tears filling her -eyes. - -“I am glad to see you, my child, but not under present circumstances,” he -answered. “You should not have left Quebec without my permission. In the -present state of Canada it is a disgrace to the Government to incur such -unnecessary expenses, and it is not well that my daughter should be mixed up -with such dissipation. I shall not allow you to join in the gaieties which are -probably about to take place. As soon as I can find an escort to take you back -to Quebec you will return thither; but not to Madame Péan’s house. You will -enter the Ursulines, and commence your novitiate at once. I have temporised -too long. Whatever happens, you will be safer there.” - -He conducted her straight to the apartment he occupied. His annoyance was very -great. He perfectly understood that Mercèdes had been used as a tool by his -enemies, to give the appearance of his sanction to what was wanton -extravagance and display. - -That night there was a grand ball, followed by a sumptuous supper, at the -Government House, but neither Montcalm nor his daughter was present. For the -first time he explained the difficulties of his position to Mercèdes, and she -responded, showing herself intelligent, and capable of understanding the -annoyances to which he was daily subject. - -“I am sorry I came, dear father,” she said; “but I only thought of the -pleasure of seeing you, and the journey with Madame Péan seemed such a simple -thing, that I attached no importance to it. For myself, I am such an -insignificant little personage; I forgot I was your daughter!” - -He smiled. “We will say no more about it, my child. Do not doubt for one -moment that it is a great delight to have you with me, even for a few days, -especially as indirectly I have had news from Candiac. Your brother the Count -is betrothed to an heiress, and will be married shortly; and your eldest -sister is already Madame d’Espineuse. You know that has been an attachment of -long standing; it is a great pleasure to me to think of her happiness.” - -“I am indeed glad!” said Mercèdes. “Dear Louise! This good account of the -family ought to cheer you, father. Soon, very soon perhaps, you will join -them,” and a sigh escaped her. - -Her father heard it, and, putting his arm round her, kissed her -affectionately. “If I return to my dear Candiac, Mercèdes, I shall certainly -not leave you behind. Had you taken the veil immediately upon your arrival in -Canada, the case would have been different: you would have become accustomed -to your life; but now you would feel yourself forsaken--besides, it is too -late. The war must come to a close before next autumn, and you will not then -have completed your novitiate: therefore your residence at the Ursulines can -only be temporary; but I think it decidedly safer for you to take refuge there -at once. What does my daughter say?” - -“That you are quite right; and, besides, you have brought your children up to -obey, and not reason, father. As soon as I return to Quebec I will enter the -convent. I am no stranger there; the good sisters know me; and from my window -I have looked down for months past into the convent gardens, feeling always -that my home was there.” - -“I am glad you are content,” answered her father. “I have blamed myself for -leaving you so long in the world, fearing it might have taken hold of you and -robbed you of your peace of mind.” - -She coloured slightly. “I am satisfied,” she said, “to do what you think best, -father.” - -At that moment there was a knock at the door, and the General’s servant -entered and handed his master a slip of folded paper. It was from Charles -Langlade, requesting an interview with the General. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII - -A CONFESSION - - -“Certainly, tell Monsieur Langlade I shall be most happy to receive him,” said -the General; and turning to his daughter, he added, “You will be glad to see -your old friend. He has done me good service: at Ticonderoga he conducted -several scouting parties; now he is in the neighbourhood of Montreal. I always -feel that I have some one I can depend upon when he is near. I shall never -understand how he came to join the Indians. Love of freedom, I suppose.” - -He had scarcely finished speaking when the door opened and Charles Langlade -entered. Mercèdes was sitting in the shadow, so that he did not see her -immediately, but she noticed at once that a great change had come over him. -There was a look of pain--even more than pain, of great sorrow--in his face. -The General was also quick to see that something was wrong; and, holding out -his hand to welcome him, as if moved by some instinct, he asked,-- - -“What has happened?” - -“Ah! you see it!” answered the young man, drawing his brows together and -compressing his lips. “My mother told me I should repent of my self-will, and -now I am truly punished. God has humbled me. My people are slain and the home -of my fathers is in ruins.” - -“I suppose you mean the Indians have made a raid on the Marsh settlement and -destroyed it?” said the General. - -“Yes,” answered Charles sadly. “I am given to understand that a tribe of the -Iroquois attacked the Marshes. I believe it is the same tribe which has been -following up my old friend Roger the Ranger, and from which he twice escaped. -They were fearfully irritated against him, and of course in my position I -could not interfere to protect him; but the Marshes they knew to be my home, -and it was an understood thing they were to respect them. I suppose they were, -as usual, carried away by their desire for vengeance. The man who brought me -the news says most of the women and children escaped; but the men have -perished or been taken prisoners, which is worse, and the village was in -flames when he left. He has been stopped on the road by illness, or I should -have known this a month ago. It appears that at the last moment some one, I do -not know who, warned those at the Marshes that an attack was meditated, and so -to a certain extent they were prepared; as I said, the women and children were -got rid of, and the men defended themselves to the death. Some must have -escaped, but my informant was unable to tell me who they were.” And having -spoken, he stood with his head bent and his eyes fixed on the ground, with all -the appearance of a man who has lost heart. - -“It is indeed a terrible misfortune,” said the General; “but, who knows? -perhaps you have heard an exaggerated account. Come and sit down. We are just -going to supper; stay and have it with us. You have not noticed my daughter; -she came with Bigot and Co. from Quebec to-day. You may imagine I am not best -pleased.” - -On hearing of Mercèdes’ presence, Charles looked up, and a light came into his -eyes; and going up to her, he said quietly,-- - -“This is unexpected; it does me good, if anything can do me good.” - -“I am so sorry for you,” said Mercèdes, holding out her hand. “Won’t you sit -down and tell us more about it? Surely you will cease to live with the Indians -now, and return to your own people.” - -“Alas! I cannot,” answered Charles; “I am bound to them.” He hesitated. “I -married Ominipeg’s daughter. I have a squaw wife.” - -If any one had observed her closely they would have seen Mercèdes’ cheek pale -for a second--only for a second; it was her father who answered. - -“It seems incredible,” he said; “how came you to commit such an act of folly?” - -“As early as I can remember,” said Charles thoughtfully, “my father took me -with him on his hunting expeditions. He was very popular with the Indians, -delighted in sport of every kind; and I grew accustomed to the freedom. I was -more at home in an Indian wigwam than at Alpha Marsh. There I was impatient of -restraint. I set myself against a regular life with the headstrong self-will -of youth; and when my father died it was worse still. More was then expected -of me. I was the heir, and had to stay at home and attend to the business of -the settlement. Father Nat humoured me, Roger and Loïs screened me; but it was -of no use, I was like a spoilt child. I wanted my own way, my liberty, and -nothing short of it could satisfy me. Besides, my sympathies were enlisted on -the side of the French. You know I am descended from a Chevalier de Langlade, -one of the earliest French colonists, and I considered, and do still consider, -that by right of pre-occupation Canada belongs to France and not to England; -and yet for no consideration would I have served under the present Canadian -Government. I am willing to fight for France freely and independently, but not -with those who are robbing her and virtually bringing about her ruin. This was -my excuse to my own conscience for breaking the bonds which had become irksome -to me; and yet I loved my mother and sisters--above all, Loïs; and of Roger I -cannot speak. I do not think, if I had realised how completely this -contemplated act of mine would have parted us, I should have had the courage -to go through with it. But I imagined time would reconcile him to the change, -and that he would continue to join our hunting parties and visit me in my -wigwam; instead of which he entirely withdrew himself, and after the -expedition against Old Britain it was open enmity between us. From that time -to this he has waged incessant war against the tribes. He is greatly feared; -his name is coupled with a sort of superstitious terror, and his unusual -strength, and the way in which he always manages to escape capture, tend to -make the Indians believe him invulnerable, and so they are set upon destroying -him. When I joined the Indians my first act was to marry Nadjii, the chief -Ominipeg’s daughter.” - -He said this in a low voice, with averted head. - -“You mean to say you deliberately married one of those wild Indian women?” -exclaimed Montcalm. - -“Yes, in all honour, according to Indian rites, I took Nadjii for my squaw. We -have a son. I am irrevocably bound to her,” he continued. “Fully as I -recognise the mistake I have made, I would not have you misjudge her. Nadjii -is no wild Indian woman: she is very gentle, tender, and true; her devotion to -me is unbounded. I believe she would lay down her life for me. No, she is not -to blame; if a wrong has been done it has been of my own doing, and in all -honour I must abide by it.” - -“I pity you with all my heart,” said the General. - -“I never felt the need of pity until now,” answered the hunter. “Of course you -cannot understand the charms of such a life as I have led for nearly seven -years. It is purely physical. To gallop over the prairies, to hunt in the -forests, to penetrate into mountain fastnesses and deep, glorious valleys--no -one who has not partaken of it can conceive the delight of such an existence. -The mere fact of living is in itself a joy. You, with your high European -civilisation, have mental and intellectual enjoyments; but we colonists have -nothing of all that--we know only the primitive pleasures of hunting, fishing, -and warfare. And then there is a strange poetry, a wonderful charm, in this -Indian life. To lie in a birch canoe throughout the calm summer days upon the -bosom of some great inland lake, to cast the line into its deep, pellucid -waters, and, gazing down into its depths, watch the trout glide shadowy and -silent over the glistening pebbles, has a mysterious fascination; or, again, -to explore the forests, floating down rivers or lakes beneath the shadows of -moss-bearded firs, to drag the canoes up on the sandy beach, and, lighting the -camp fire, recline beneath the trees, and smoke and laugh away the sultry -hours, in a lazy luxury of enjoyment, indescribable, and which you cannot -realise, but which I have lived and revelled in, forgetful, alas? that there -are higher duties incumbent upon man than mere personal indulgence. And now I -reap the bitter fruit. If I had remained at my post, all this would not have -happened.” - -“But where was the Ranger?” asked Montcalm. - -“In October he was, you know, somewhere up by Ticonderoga. You remember he had -a skirmish with one of our scouting parties about that time?” - -“Yes,” said Montcalm, “and he punished our men terribly, driving them back -with such heavy loss that I determined that for the winter, at least, no more -scouting parties should be sent out. But now what are your plans? What do you -propose doing?” - -“I came to let you know that I am going down to the Marshes to reconnoitre, -and see with my own eyes the extent of the misfortune. As you say, there may -be exaggeration in the account I have received, which was by no means through -a direct channel. You will not begin operations till March, and I shall be -back long before that.” - -“I hope so,” answered the General; “for I depend greatly upon you to keep the -Indians in order. I expect the English will attack us by way of Lakes -Champlain and Ontario; in any case, I am preparing even now to resist them.” - -“I am more inclined to think they will attack Quebec itself.” - -“Hardly,” answered Montcalm; “the navigation of the St. Lawrence is too -difficult and dangerous for any hostile fleet to attempt. Besides, the -position of Quebec renders it impregnable unless we are betrayed. I have a -plan of defence which will prevent the enemy approaching Quebec.” - -“I am satisfied to believe such to be the case,” said Charles; “and now, -farewell, sir; you may trust me to be back before the rivers and lakes are -unthawed.” - -“Will you not stay to supper?” said Montcalm. “We are alone; all my officers -are dancing attendance upon the Quebec ladies.” - -“Thank you,” answered Charles; “I have still certain things to settle with the -chiefs, and I start to-morrow before dawn. I must therefore take leave of you -now. Farewell, Mademoiselle,” he said, approaching Mercèdes. - -“Adieu,” she answered; and for one second as their fingers touched their eyes -met. He bowed his head over her hand; then turned away, and, with a hurried -salutation to the General, left the room. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV - -THE PRODIGAL - - -The moon was shining brightly on the snow-covered earth, causing the outlines -of the houses and buildings of the Marshes to stand forth in bold relief, -while the snow hid under its whiteness the ruins of the late invasion. Not a -sound was heard; perfect stillness reigned over the land, even as it reigns in -the chamber of death where the still figure lies beneath the white shroud, -soon to be put away out of sight, until the dawn of the great resurrection -day, when earth and sea shall give up their dead. - -In springtime the earth bursts forth, leaf and bud and flower, and the heart -of man rejoices and is made glad. Surely it is but the shadow of that joy -which shall be ours when the graves shall give up their dead, and we shall see -our loved ones glorified, made perfect, released from the bondage of earth, -knowing but one law, the great law of Love, by the divine power of which their -chains have been broken and they have been loosed. Truly then, and then only, -shall we give utterance to the cry, “O death, where is thy sting? O grave, -where is thy victory?” - -Oh! how the heart aches and strains after that consummation. Our loved ones, -who are gone before, whose spirits are still with us by night and by day, in -the busy crowd as in the solitude of our chamber, whose voices we long to -hear, whose hands we long to press--what agony of patient waiting! - -But there was one standing out in the snow looking up at the Marshes -travel-stained and worn, not daring to approach the home of his fathers. He -had come many miles over a trackless country, over ice-bound rivers, through -deep forests, over mountains and valleys covered with snow, enduring hardships -which would have seemed intolerable to a less hardy nature, until at last he -stood before the home of his childhood; and tears blinded his eyes when he saw -that it was not utterly destroyed, that all had not perished, that still the -village steeple rose in the moonlight, telling of God’s mercy. - -Suddenly the loud bark of the house-dog warned him that, unless he retreated, -his presence would be discovered. He had been standing in the high road; he -moved quickly behind a clump of trees, only just in time. The front door -opened, and a stream of light poured forth as Marcus stepped out on to the -garden path and looked around, cautiously peering into the dark shadows cast -by the house and the trees. He heard him say, “I can see no one. Had I better -let Bob loose?” The dog’s bark had changed into a whine, which Charles -Langlade knew full well to mean that his instinct had discovered a friend, not -a foe, in the night watcher. - -“It might be as well,” said a woman’s voice; and a second later there was a -rush and a bound, and Charles Langlade felt two great paws upon his shoulders, -and a loud whine of welcome went up into the still night air. - -“Who’s there?” asked Marcus, in a clear, loud voice. - -“Down, Bob; down, old boy,” said Charles, stepping out of the shadow; and -crossing the road, he opened the wicket gate and entered. - -“Marcus!” - -“Charles!” - -And the two brothers clasped hands. - -“My poor boy! Will you ever forgive me?” said the elder. - -“I have nothing to forgive,” answered Marcus; “you did what you thought -right.” - -“Nay, I did what pleased me,” answered Charles. “But tell me who is living and -who is dead?” - -At this moment Loïs came out of the house. - -“Oh, Charles, my brother!” and her arms were round his neck. - -The three stood there in the snow, so deeply moved they could give no -utterance to their feelings, and Bob leapt around them, giving vent to his -delight in short, sharp barks. - -“Come in,” said Loïs. “We have so much to tell you.” - -“My mother, the children?” said Charles. - -“Are unhurt,” said Loïs. - -“And Father Nat?” - -“Ah! that is the worst of all; still, he is living. Come,” and she drew him -across the threshold of what had been his home; and as he stood once more in -the old familiar place, the glamour fell from his eyes, and he exclaimed -bitterly,-- - -“How could I forsake you?” - -The front kitchen was empty; but there was fire on the hearth, and the lighted -lamp showed Loïs how worn and travel-stained he was. His face was thin and -haggard, his lips shrivelled with exposure and cold; his bearskin partially -hid the dilapidated condition of his clothes. He drew near the fire and -stretched out his hands to the flame. Marcus, looking at him, said,-- - -“You will eat, Charles?” - -“I have had no food since yesterday,” he said; “my provisions have come to an -end, and there is no game abroad in this weather.” - -“Sit down and warm yourself,” said Loïs, pushing him gently into the chair -which had been his father’s. “All are gone to rest. I will get your supper.” - -“Tell me first what of Father Nat. Does Roger know?” - -“Father Nat was terribly wounded,” said Loïs; “and for a long time we -despaired of saving him; but within the last fortnight there have been signs -of gradual improvement; he has seemed to recognise us at times. But now ask no -more until you are refreshed,” and she left the kitchen, whilst Marcus filled -a pipe and handed it to his brother. - -“It is the calumet of peace,” he said. - -“You heap coals of fire on my head.” - -But nature was so exhausted that he sank back in his chair, and, putting the -pipe to his lips, slowly smoked. - -The relief of finding that those nearest and dearest to him were living was so -great, that in his weariness he seemed powerless to realise anything more; -mind and body were alike benumbed; and when Loïs brought in the supper they -had to rouse him and force him to eat. It was evident he had no idea of what -had occurred, by the words to which he had already given utterance. After he -had eaten, looking up at Loïs, he said,-- - -“I heard the settlement was burnt to the ground, and you were all slain. The -man who told me said he was an eye-witness, and had fled when the village was -in flames.” - -“But for Nadjii’s warning and Roger’s sudden arrival, such would have been the -case,” answered Loïs. - -“Nadjii! what had Nadjii to do with it?” said Charles sharply. - -“She told me you had bidden her watch over us. She came to me, and gave us -notice that the Indians were coming to attack us; and so they did not surprise -us, and we were able to defend ourselves until Roger came. It seems he had -been warned by one of her people.” - -“My true-hearted Nadjii, my brave little squaw!” said Charles, his whole face -lighting up with pleasure and emotion. “Where is she? What has become of her? -Has she returned to her tribe?” - -There was a moment’s silence; he was quick to notice it. - -“What has become of her? Where is she?” he asked hastily. - -“She saved my life, she saved Father Nat’s life,--she died for us;” and -standing before him, Loïs burst into tears. - -He started; every particle of colour forsook his face. - -“Tell me all,” he said, in a low voice. - -And Marcus told him, for Loïs could not, how Nadjii had covered them with her -own body, and how she had been wounded unto death. - -“And the child?” said Charles, burying his face in his hands. “She would not -have left it behind.” - -Again there was a moment’s silence; then Loïs knelt down beside him, and, -laying her hand on his arm, said,-- - -“When she was dying, she told us where to find it--in the trunk of a tree in -the forest where she had laid it. Roger went to fetch it.” - -“Roger did that?” exclaimed Charles. “Let me see my boy, Loïs!” - -She hesitated just for one moment, then continued slowly, not daring to raise -her tearful eyes to his face,-- - -“He looked for the child carefully; he found the spot where Nadjii had told -him the babe was, but it was gone.” - -Charles sprang up. “Stolen!” he exclaimed, his eyes flashing. - -“We fear so,” said Loïs. “Certainly there was no trace of any bodily harm -having befallen him; he had simply been taken away.” - -“Did Nadjii know of this before she died?” asked Charles, with set teeth. - -“No,” answered Loïs; “she thought she saw him. Her last words were ‘Jesus, -Nenemoosha.’ Was she a Christian, Charles?” - -“Yes, thank God, I taught her all she could understand,” he answered, “and her -gentle soul delighted in the stories of Christ’s love. She was a better -Christian than many who enjoy far greater privileges than did my squaw wife. I -am glad she thought the child was safe. The Indians must have found and taken -him. If they have wrought him harm, then his mother’s tribe will avenge him. -He was such a bonnie two-year-old boy, Loïs;” and as one oppressed with a -weight of sorrow, he let his head sink on to his bosom, and heavy tears fell -from his eyes. It was the strong man’s agony. - -His past life of physical enjoyment, without thought of the morrow, was fading -as a mirage fades away even as he gazed, and his soul was steeped in stern -reality. Ruin and death were around him. He had deemed himself all-powerful, -capable of choosing his own way, shaping his own course, unmindful of any will -save his own. A rebellious son! Even as the prodigal he had gone forth in the -pride of his youth and manhood, feeling himself strong, and he had wasted his -life, forgetful, or ignorant perhaps, that there is in man, made in God’s -image, a higher, nobler nature than in the brute creation. Soul, heart, -intellect, are surely given to bring the body into subjection--not doing away -with material enjoyment, but tempering it; and as years go on we recognise -that our bodies are but the caskets made to contain the never-dying spirit -which God breathed into man, even the breath of life. - -“My son was dead and is alive again.” Dead, though full of life and health, -clothed in rich raiment, going forth, having gathered together all his -substance, rich in friends and in all the world can give; yet he was dead! - -“Alive again!” when hungry and athirst, his rich raiment in tatters, his head -bowed in sorrow, and his lips giving utterance to the words, “Father, I have -sinned against Heaven and before thee!” And his father rejoiced over him. - -Suddenly Charles rose to his feet, threw one arm round Loïs, and drew her -close up to him. - -“Dearest,” he said, “if I have sinned in the past, God pardon me! I will find -the boy and bring him to you; and when this war is over I will come home, and -ease the burden from your shoulders, Marcus, so that you may take up your -calling and be a minister of God, according to your heart’s desire, and I will -care for our mother and the younger ones, and strive to do my duty in the -land, as you, my younger brother, have done in my stead.” - -He held out his hand to Marcus, who grasped it, saying,-- - -“Why not stay with us now, Charles?” - -“Because my honour is pledged,” he answered. “Not to the Indians; I shall -never again dwell among them or be one with them; but to Canada, to General -Montcalm. I have sworn to stand by him to the end, and I will do so, not as an -Indian chief if I can help it. I shall join the Canadian militia as a -volunteer, as I ought to have done from the first, and fight for the cause -which I still believe to be the right one. Tell Roger this; he will -understand. And now let me have one look at Father Nat, after which I will lie -down and sleep, for I am terribly weary. I have been three weeks on the road -from Montreal, and must return as quickly as possible. Is Roger still here to -protect you?” - -“He will not leave us till the spring,” said Marcus. “He is gone now for a -couple of days to Cauterets on business; when he does go for good he will -leave us well protected. You need not fear; we have sentries out by night and -by day now.” - -“It is well; let me see Father Nat,” said Charles; and they led the way to the -room where Nathaniel Boscowen lay sleeping. Shading the lamp she carried in -her hand, Loïs approached the bed, and was surprised to see that his eyes were -open and that he moved restlessly. - -“Is that you, Loïs?” he asked. - -“Yes, father,” she answered; “shall I arrange your pillows?” and signing to -the two young men to keep in the shadow, she bent over him. - -He lifted his hand. “My pillows are all right,” he said; “but I heard voices -in the room below, and it seemed to me I recognised Charles’s. I would it were -so; I loved the lad: if only I might see him before I die!” - -“You are not going to die, Father Nat; you are getting well, and will be as -hale and hearty as ever. Do you wish to see Charles so very much?” said Loïs. - -“Yes,” answered Nathaniel shortly, as if the question irritated him. - -“Then I will tell you something. It was his voice you heard; he is here,” said -Loïs. - -“Where?” asked Father Nat, trying to lift his head, but Charles was quickly -beside him. - -“Dear Father Nat,” he said, “forgive me.” - -“Ay, my lad, I forgive thee,” and he clasped his hand. “I always told you they -were a treacherous people. You will come back to us now?” - -“Please God I will,” said Charles. - -“Then I am content. The breach is healed; Langlade and Boscowen are not -riven!” and closing his eyes, he settled himself to sleep. They watched him -for a few minutes, and then crept softly out of the room. - - - - -CHAPTER XXV - -TO THE FORE - - -At the first sign of spring, General Montcalm prepared to take the field and -oppose a steady resistance to an attack which it was generally believed would -be made upon Quebec by way of Lakes Champlain and Ontario. - -He was sitting in his tent one afternoon, in company with General Bougainville -and Chevalier Levis. On a table before them maps were spread out, and Montcalm -was explaining his plan of defence, supposing the English should attempt a -regular siege of Quebec. - -“I do not believe it possible for the English to approach the town,” he said. -“All round, on the high ground overlooking it, I shall station the principal -part of the army; the right wing will extend along the river St. Charles and -the left on to Montmorenci; by this means our troops will cover an area of -from seven to eight miles. The steep ground rises almost from the water’s -edge, and the guns from the citadel itself will do the rest. Are you not both -of my opinion?” - -“We are,” said Levis. “If we can hold out till the winter, I believe we shall -see the last of the English.” - -Even while he was speaking, voices were heard outside the tent, and the -sentinel, looking in, said,-- - -“A soldier with a despatch for the General.” - -“Let him come in,” said Montcalm, looking up. - -A Canadian, recognisable as such by his dress, entered. He was covered with -dust, and had evidently ridden hard. He laid a letter on the table before the -General. - -“Who has sent you?” asked Montcalm, as he opened the despatch. - -“Captain Langlade,” was the ready answer. - -The General’s face grew visibly sterner as he read, and when he had finished, -he laid the letter on the table, kept his hand upon it, and said -emphatically,-- - -“The decisive moment is approaching, gentlemen. This letter is to inform me -that the English with a great fleet are within three leagues of Quebec; they -have on board a large army, commanded by the young General Wolfe. We know full -well what sort of man he is! The fate of Canada is now in the balance.” - -“And you will come forth victorious, General, as you did at Fort William Henry -and Ticonderoga,” said Levis. - -“God grant it!” answered the General. “I think our measures are well taken,” -he said, turning to the two officers. “In my opinion, unless there be treason -in the camp, the English will never make themselves masters of the town. I -believe it to be impregnable.” - -“I am certain that, with intrenchments, I could hold the city with three or -four thousand men,” said Bougainville; adding, “In a few days we shall muster -sixteen thousand men in and round its walls. There is nothing to fear; let the -English come!” - -“I am satisfied you are right,” answered the General. - -Then, turning to the man who had brought the message, he said, “You will -return at once to Captain Langlade, and tell him we shall join the army at -Quebec as quickly as possible. And now, gentlemen, we will call a general -council of officers, and then to-morrow at dawn _en route_; we are approaching -the end.” - -“And a good thing too,” said Bougainville. “We have shilly-shallied long -enough. It is time the English understood once for all that we intend to -remain masters of Canada, and to hold the fortress upon which old Samuel -Champlain first planted the French flag.” - -The following day the whole forces of the French and Colonial army were on -their way to Quebec. Only three battalions were left at Ticonderoga, and a -strong detachment placed so as to resist any possible attack by Lake Ontario. -The French took up positions at the mouth of the St. Charles on the east, and -the river Montmorenci on the north-east, which Montcalm had fortified with the -greatest possible skill. Across the mouth of the St. Charles a boom of logs -chained together was placed, protected by mounted cannon. A bridge of boats -crossing the river connected the city with the camp. All the gates of Quebec -except that of St. Charles were closed and barricaded. A hundred and six -cannon were mounted on the walls, whilst on the river there was a floating -battery of twelve heavy pieces, a number of gunboats, and eight fireships. - -The army for the defence mustered, they posted sixteen thousand men, for the -most part advantageously, behind defensive works. A large portion of these -were Canadians, who were of little use in the open field, but fought well -behind intrenchments; there were also upwards of a thousand Indians from the -brave tribes of the Iroquois, or five nations. It was at the end of June, and -the country round Quebec, naturally fertile, was in the height of its summer -glory. On the curving shore from the St. Charles to the rocky gorge of -Montmorenci, for a distance of seven to eight miles, were to be seen the -whitewashed dwellings of the parish of Beauport, and the fields on both sides -studded with tents, huts, and Indian wigwams. Midway between the little river -of Beauport, on a rising ground, stood a large stone house, round which tents -were thickly clustered. Here Montcalm had his headquarters. - -Looking down upon her defenders, Quebec sat perched upon her rock, a -congregation of stone houses, palaces, convents, and hospitals; the uniformity -being broken by the green trees of the seminary gardens, the spires of the -cathedral, the Convent of the Ursulines, and the monastic buildings of the -Recollets and the Jesuits. A firm, solid mass she looked in the summer -sunshine, unconquered, and it seemed unconquerable. A lovable town, quaint -even then, with its one-storied houses, built heavily of stone and stuccoed -brick, with two dormer windows full of house plants in each roof. Here and -there, higher still, a weather-worn wood-coloured gallery was seen, -pent-roofed and balustered, geraniums showing through the balusters, and white -doves circling around and cooing upon the windowsills. Such as she was in her -homely fashion, French and English alike looked up to her--the one with loving -pride, the other with covetous desire. - -On the 26th of June the English fleet anchored off the Island of Orleans, a -few miles below Quebec. A small party attempting to land was opposed by the -Canadians, but they were beaten off, and the whole army then landed. - -When William Pitt gave the command of the English army in Canada to General -Wolfe, it was but natural that such an act should arouse feelings of jealousy -in men older than himself, and under whose orders he had served in the earlier -part of the campaign. Wolfe himself was more alive to the responsibility than -to the honour which was almost thrust upon him. The state of his health was -most precarious; in fact, he was rarely free from acute pain, and it required -an immense power of self-command and energy to enable him to bear up against -fatigue and mental anxiety. Nevertheless, he had accepted the command -unhesitatingly, and with the determination of conquering Quebec and adding -this new jewel to the English crown. - -To accomplish this he knew that half measures were no longer feasible. From -the end of the Island of Orleans he could see and judge the full strength of -the enemy; three great batteries frowned down upon him from above Quebec, -behind which rose the redoubts and parapets of Cape Diamond, whilst three -other batteries down to the river’s edge guarded the lower part of the town. -The whole country round was covered with earthworks, redoubts, and -intrenchments; the river with floating batteries, fireships, and other engines -of war. His first act was to issue a proclamation in the king’s name:-- - - “His Excellency Major-General James Wolfe, Commander-in-Chief of - his Britannic Majesty’s troops now stationed in the river St. - Lawrence, to the people of Canada. - - “My king and master George III., justly irritated against France, - has resolved to humble her pride and to revenge the insults she - has inflicted on the English colonies. With this purpose in view - he has sent me, at the head of a formidable army, with a fleet - which has already advanced almost into the centre of their chief - city, to deprive France of all her establishments in North - America, and to proclaim British rule. This is my mission, and by - the grace of God I hope to carry it into effect. - - James Wolfe.” - -This done, he took possession of Point Levis, a promontory on the south bank -of the St. Lawrence, where the current narrows into a deep stream of only a -mile in breadth. General Monckton occupied this point with four battalions, -and shelled the lower town across the river, but the citadel was beyond his -reach. Wolfe’s army consisted of nine thousand troops: it should have amounted -to fourteen thousand, but at the last moment the orders for some of the West -Indian troops to join were countermanded; this was probably partly due to -jealousy at Wolfe’s having been nominated to the chief command. - -The two armies were stationed opposite each other on either side of the river. -Vaudreuil, as Governor of Canada, still held command, and by his mistakes -frequently hampered Montcalm’s action. Had he planted guns in such a manner as -to fire down on the English fleet, it could never have taken up a position so -near the city; he failed to do this, however, and the result was that the -English fleet passed up the river in safety, to the astonishment of the -Canadians, who, until then, had believed it impossible for large ships to be -brought up the St. Lawrence. - -Again, very shortly after the landing of the English army on the Island of -Orleans, Vaudreuil made a desperate attempt to destroy the English fleet by -launching fireships against it. The English sentries at the farther end of the -island saw in the middle of the night vessels coming down the river. These -ships were really filled with pitch, tar, and all sorts of combustibles mixed -with shells and grenades, and the decks crowded with a number of cannon -crammed with grape shot and musket balls. Suddenly they became like pillars of -flame, and advanced with tremendous explosion and noise. But the French -officers had lost their nerve, and set fire to the ships too soon. The -English, after their first surprise, recovered their coolness, lowered their -boats, and the sailors rowed out to meet the fireships, and by means of -grapnels they towed them towards land, where they were stranded and left to -burn themselves out. - -Thus the fight might truly be said to have begun. To lookers on, and at this -distance of time, it almost bears the aspect of a duel, the two principal -actors standing out boldly in relief, fighting not for themselves, but for -their countries, and, to a certain extent, for their religion. Catholic -France, Protestant England! Noble men in every sense of the word, worthy of -each other, their names have come down to posterity linked together--“Wolfe -and Montcalm.” - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI - -THE CHILD - - -General Montcalm was slowly pacing up and down the room he occupied at his -headquarters on the St. Charles; the only other person present was Langlade, -called by courtesy Captain Langlade. A look of great annoyance was on the -General’s face. - -“You cannot do this,” he said. “What you have engaged to accomplish you must -carry out to the end. If you withdraw yourself from the Indians, you will do -our cause incalculable harm. They know you; they obey you; you are a power -with them. With the Canadians you are no one; they have their own officers. In -my opinion, you are bound to retain your present position until the end of the -campaign; the wrongs you deplore would be greatly increased if your influence -were withdrawn. I entreat of you, make no change at the present critical -moment. As far as lies in my power, I will lighten your duties; but you must -remain with your Indians, to hold them in hand and to restrain them.” - -“I have promised my people I would have nothing further in common with the -Indians,” said Charles. - -“You pledged yourself first to me,” said the General. “You cannot desert me; -you would do far greater harm by withdrawing yourself. I entreat of you not to -do this thing.” And he went up to the young man, and took his hand with the -persuasive eloquence for which he was so noted. - -Charles knew full well that the General was right; that, once his authority -removed, the Indians would be more difficult than ever to hold under -restraint, and that their natural cruelty would have free scope. Scalps -without number! they had no other ambition. The Iroquois, if they were -foremost in war and in eloquence, were also foremost in savage acts. They were -proud to have a white man as their leader, and would revenge his desertion, -perhaps even by withdrawing themselves from the French cause. He realised for -the first time how difficult it is to retrace false steps, and to undo -wrongdoing. He had joined himself to the Indians, he had sworn to serve the -French cause, of his own free will and for his own personal ends: was he -justified in withdrawing himself at so critical a moment for reasons equally -personal? His sense of justice told him he was not. After a few minutes’ -reflection, during which the General watched him anxiously, he said, in -serious, measured tones, very different from the eager, impetuous voice of -old,-- - -“I will remain with you. I have done harm enough already. It is no longer with -me a question of right, but what is least wrong. I have studied my own -inclinations all my life; now I am going against them.” - -“And you do well, believe me,” said Montcalm. “No one can hate the Indians -more than I do; my whole soul recoils from them. How you ever came to join -them has been a wonder to me; but having done so, it is but fair that you -should remain at your post until the war is over. I should never know an -hour’s tranquillity if you were not their leader. Thank you for your decision; -some day I may perhaps find means of proving my gratitude.” - -“You could render me a service now at once, if you would,” said Charles. - -“Name it,” answered the General. - -“I told you I had a son,” said Charles quickly; “his mother died trying to -save the Marshes. She had carried the child with her in her long journeyings, -and when the Indians attacked the village, she hid him in the trunk of a tree -while she went to the rescue. When the fray was over she told my sister Loïs -where to find the child, but when she sent to look for it, it had disappeared. -I have been a long time tracing it, but at last discovered that a half-brother -of Nadjii’s, the lad who had warned Roger of the meditated attack, had found -the child, brought it up here, and given it in charge of a Huron woman, living -at Lorette. At first I doubted the story; but I went to see the child two days -ago, and recognised him as my son. I cannot leave him where he is--it is not -safe; and, moreover, I never wish him to know that he has Indian blood in his -veins. I have thought that at the Convent of the Ursulines they would take him -in, and care for him, if you would obtain admission for him.” - -“Nothing can be simpler,” answered Montcalm. “You know that three months ago -Mercèdes entered as a novice. After that affair of Montreal I never allowed -her to return to Madame Péan: indeed, she had no desire to do so; she begged -me to let her enter the convent at once. In fact, she pined and drooped from -that time, until I brought her back to Quebec, and she and Marthe both entered -the Ursulines together. Since then she has recovered, and whenever I can -manage to find time to go and see her, she is as bright and happy as I can -wish. Yes, certainly, I will give you a letter to the Superior. Take your -child there; it will be well cared for. I will write it at once;” and sitting -down, he drew the writing materials towards him. “There,” he said, handing the -letter to Charles, “if you present yourself to-morrow, and ask to see the -Superior in my name, you will gain admittance. Give her this. I have explained -everything; the child will be safe there.” - -“Thank you,” said Charles; “and now I will leave you. I shall be in Quebec -to-morrow. You may trust me; I am yours until the war is over,” he added. - -“I have your word,” answered Montcalm; “surely that is enough,” and -accompanying him to the door, they shook hands, and then he watched the young -man go down the hill-side, on his way to the Indian quarters. - -“A fine fellow, but a ruined life,” he thought. “Thank goodness I have -persuaded him to remain with his Indians; the game would have been as good as -played out if he had deserted us.” - -It was early morning as Charles Langlade strode rapidly along the road leading -from the hamlet of Lorette to Quebec. Through meadows and rye-fields it wound, -crossing and recrossing the swift St. Charles, a somewhat lonely road with a -few cottages scattered here and there, and irregular, shabby-looking cabins -along the lanes, at the doors of which lounged Indian boys and girls of all -shades and colours. This was the Huron village of Lorette. They were -Christians after their fashion, the poor remnant of the mighty Huron nation, -converted by the Jesuits and crushed by the Iroquois in the far western -wilderness. - -But Charles Langlade was not alone. He carried on his shoulder a boy of some -three years old. The two resembled each other most curiously, except that the -child’s skin was still fair and soft, whilst the father’s was bronzed and -weather-beaten. There were the same deep blue eyes and curling chestnut hair, -the same pose of the head slightly tossed back. They looked very picturesque, -the hunter in his crimson shirt, one arm raised, holding the half-naked child, -who sat proudly aloft, clutching at his father’s hair, beating his little bare -feet against the broad chest, and laughing aloud for glee; so bubbling over -with life, that the passers-by turned to look back at them. - -It was a goodly sight; and so they reached the heavy stone gateway leading -into the city, set thick with mighty bolts and spikes. Here Charles Langlade -paused, and showed his pass before he could gain admittance; but he was not -detained long, and went his way through a squalid lane, the old “Sault au -Matelot,” looking its best this bright summer morning, creeping under the -shelter of the city walls and overhanging rock, from which drooped weeds and -grass, with just a few rays of sunlight penetrating here and there, glistening -on the abundant moisture which slowly trickled down, until at last he reached -the flight of steps leading from the lower to the upper town, and having -climbed them stood at the convent gates. He paused a moment before pulling the -great bell, lifted the child from off his shoulder, and placed it on the -ground. As it stood thus beside him he looked at it, and passed his hand over -the rough curly head, straightening the short crimson cotton blouse, which, -with innumerable strings of coloured beads round its neck, was all the clothes -it boasted; then with an impatient sigh he pulled the rope dangling at the -gateway. The sound rang through the silent court and garden, and presently a -small panel was pushed on one side, and a voice asked,-- - -“Who is there?” - -“From his Excellency General Montcalm. I am the bearer of a letter to the -reverend mother,” said Langlade. - -The little panel was clapped quickly to again, and he heard the receding -footsteps of the doorkeeper. - -He was not kept long waiting. This time the little door let into the big -gateway was unbarred, and he was bidden to enter; and, after she had carefully -rebolted the door, the nun preceded him through the garden, full of flowers, -clumps of lilac bushes, roses, and hollyhocks, blossoming within the shelter -of the high surrounding walls, while the bright morning sun poured down on the -alleys and greensward with all the glory of the short Canadian summer. - -He was ushered into a long whitewashed room, the only furniture of which was a -deal table, a few common chairs, and a tall crucifix on the wall. - -The nun pointed to a chair, and disappeared with that soft gliding movement -habitual to her class; but Charles Langlade, picking the child up, carried it -to the open window and looked out on the quiet scene; and as he caught a -glimpse of black robes moving among the trees, he wondered in his secret heart -if Mercèdes were there. A strange longing had been upon him all that day to -see her face once more, and then--well, then it would be over. - -The door opened, and a tall thin woman in black robes and veil, her face -framed in white linen, entered noiselessly. Behind her was another figure -dressed in the same fashion, only she wore a long white robe and veil; her -face was very pale and her eyes downcast, but in her Charles Langlade -recognised Mercèdes; and thus it was these two stood once more in each other’s -presence. - -“I have read the General’s letter, Mr. Langlade, and understand that you wish -to leave your child with us for a time. You can do so; we will take all care -of it, and when this terrible war is over you can claim it of us.” - -So said the reverend mother, and advancing, she tried to take the little hand; -but the child, terrified, clung to his father, uttering Indian words -indicative of fear at the strange figure before him, such as he had never seen -before. - -“He will soon get accustomed to us,” said the mother gently. “Sister Mercèdes, -will you try your influence?” - -Charles whispered a few words to the boy, and, sitting down, placed him on his -knee, and as Mercèdes approached, he said,-- - -“Mademoiselle, your father bade me enquire after your health and well-being.” - -“Tell my dear father I am well and happy,” she answered; “and that we pray -unceasingly for his success.” - -She spoke quite calmly, and the colour had come back into her face. - -“I will not forget,” he answered; then again he spoke to the child. The boy -looked up at the young novice, who, trembling slightly, held out her arms and -smiled upon him, speaking a few soft words such as she had been wont to use to -her little sister at home, and he answered with a wild cry, like a bird. - -“He is only a little savage; you must tame him,” said Charles, rising and -placing the child in her arms; and bowing low before her and the mother, he -went towards the door. He paused one second on the threshold, and the last -thing he saw was the white figure of the nun, clasping in her arms the child -in its red robe and gaudy beads. - -Would they ever meet again? - - - - -CHAPTER XXVII - -TWO HEROES - - -Late one evening Loïs was startled by an Indian youth creeping round the -house. Going out to him, he gave her a folded paper, which proved to be a -letter from Charles. It ran thus:-- - - “Yes, Loïs, I have found the boy, and I have placed him in safety - in the Ursuline Convent in Quebec, with Mercèdes Montcalm. When - the war is over, if you will have him he shall be conveyed to you; - at present it would be impossible to do so with any safety. After - my assurance to you that I would separate myself from the Indians, - you will be surprised to hear that at General Montcalm’s entreaty - I have retained my command. He represented to me, and I think - justly, that I had no right for any private consideration, any - personal quarrel, to bring disunion into his army, which, by - throwing up my Indian command, and attaching myself to the - Canadian contingent, I should most assuredly do. It would be a - breach of honour. My first engagement was made to him. The Indians - are only held in check by my influence; if that were removed, - their cruelty and licence would be unbounded. - - “All this I know to be true, and therefore I have decided not to - inflict further wrong on others; what is done I must abide by. - Bitterly as I deplore the past, at the present moment I feel bound - to those who, knowing nothing of my private life, have placed - confidence in me. It cannot last long. General Wolfe is pushing on - towards Quebec, but our positions are strong. It is now July. In - less than three months the winter will force the English to - retreat, probably to return to England; the Indians will then - disperse and I shall be released. In the meantime, I am almost - face to face with Roger. I am stationed with General Levis on the - heights of Montmorenci, and I have every reason to believe that - Roger, with his Rangers, is in the forest, trying to discover a - ford across the river. We are on the same search. If it be so, we - can scarcely do otherwise than meet one day. Pray for us, Loïs, - and that this cruel war may end, and that we may once more all - dwell together in peace! - - “Your loving brother, - Charles Langlade. - - “P.S.--An Indian will be the bearer of this letter; you may trust - him to send me back news of what is going on at the Marshes. I am - watching over you; you need fear no fresh aggression.” - -The question of this ford, alluded to in the above letter, was of great -importance, and it was only discovered after many days of close watching by -the French. Early one morning, General Levis’s _aide-de-camp_, a Scotchman, -appeared in his tent bringing with him a peasant, who explained that he had -crossed a ford a few hours earlier. - -“Then you shall serve us as guide,” said Levis, and he told off eleven -thousand Canadians under their officer, Repentigny, with orders to intrench -themselves opposite the ford. Charles Langlade, with four hundred Indians, -went in advance, crossed the ford, and discovered the English in the forest; -not considering himself sufficiently strong to attack, he returned and told -Repentigny, who sent to Levis, who again sent to Vaudreuil! - -The Indians, thinking they would be baulked of their prey, became mutinous at -the delay, and Langlade found it impossible to restrain them; they declared -that if he would not lead them, they would attack the Rangers without him, -and, to avoid this, he recrossed the ford. - -So savage was their onset that they drove the Rangers back on the regulars, -who, however, stood their ground and repulsed the Indians with considerable -loss. Nevertheless, they carried off thirty-six scalps. Montcalm and Vaudreuil -determined to remain on the defensive; the English were powerless to injure -them. Wolfe’s position was a dangerous one; his army was separated into three -parts, at such distances that it would have been impossible for any one of -them to come to the assistance of the other. - -The deep and impassable Montmorenci flowed between the two camps, but from the -cliffs on either side a gunshot might easily reach and hit a man. - -The Canadians were also growing daily more and more dispirited. They were -ready for active service, but the inaction to which they were condemned tried -their patience severely. - -It was summer-time. The harvest was at hand, and the militia men thought of -the crops waiting to be gathered in. Many deserted and went home to their -villages, notwithstanding the exhortations of their priests; what was found -most efficacious to keep them from so doing was the Governor’s threat to let -the Indians loose upon any who should waver in their allegiance. - -But in the midst of all these difficulties it was the characters of the men -who stood at the helm which filled those around them, and indeed their -enemies, with admiration. - -Montcalm’s career in Canada was a struggle against an inexorable destiny. He -bore hunger, thirst, and fatigue without a murmur, caring for his soldiers, -but with no thought for himself. In the midst of general corruption he stood -forth immaculate, having but one thought, the good of the colony; the savages -themselves declared they learnt from him patience in suffering. - -A story is told of an Indian chief, when presented to Montcalm, expressing his -astonishment that a man who was capable of such great deeds should be so -diminutive in stature. - -“Ah! how small thou art!” he exclaimed; then added, “but I see reflected in -thy eyes the height of the oak and the vivacity of the eagle.” - -His own soldiers and his officers worshipped him, but such men as the Governor -Vaudreuil and his satellites, Bigot, Cadet, and the rest, both hated and -feared him, as the evil man hates and fears the just one. - -In the opposite camp a dying man held sway. James Wolfe knew that he was -doomed; and his heart sank within him as the days went by, and at the end of -July he found himself no nearer taking Quebec than upon the first day on which -he landed. He could not move Montcalm to attack. On the 31st of July he made a -desperate attempt on the French camp, on the heights of Montmorenci; but -notwithstanding acts of the most daring courage, the English were driven back -with enormous loss. The blow was such a severe one that Wolfe, thoroughly -disheartened, meditated fortifying the Île-aux-Coudres, and then sailing for -England with the remainder of his army, to return the following year. But the -following year! could he even reckon on a month of life? and he had so hoped, -when he accepted his office from William Pitt, to return triumphant, having -blotted out and repaired the faults of his predecessors. Imbued with an ardent -love of glory, what must have been the feelings of such a man at the prospect -of issuing the order for the army he had expected to lead to victory to sail -homewards--if not conquered, at least foiled! He could not make up his mind to -such a step as long as there still remained the shadow of a chance. - -In the middle of August he issued another proclamation, couched in the -following terms:-- - -“Seeing that the people of Canada have shown so little appreciation of my -mercy, I am resolved to listen no longer to the sentiments of humanity which -have so far ruled me. It is a cause of bitter sorrow to me to be obliged even -remotely to imitate the acts of barbarity perpetrated by the Canadians and -Indians; yet in justice to myself and my army, I feel bound to chastise the -Canadian people. From henceforth therefore any village or settlement which -offers resistance to British rule will be razed to the ground.” - -The churches were to be respected, and women and children treated with due -honour. “If any violence is offered to a woman, the offender shall be punished -with death.” - -The Rangers and Light Infantry were charged to carry out these orders, and -soon on the sunny plains around Quebec flames and smoke arose from many a -farmhouse and peaceful village, and the population went forth in flocks, -victims of the scourge of war. The Governor Vaudreuil wrote despatches home in -which he dilated at great length upon the barbarity of the English, utterly -ignoring the fact that for years past he had sent his savages the length and -breadth of the English colonies to waste and murder at will, without regard to -either age or sex. Quebec was itself greatly injured; many families had -forsaken the city, and taken refuge at Pointe-aux-Trembles, some eighteen -miles up the river on the north shore. Colonel Carleton landed here with six -hundred men, and took upwards of a hundred ladies, old men, and children -prisoners. They were conducted to Wolfe’s camp, where they were courteously -treated, the ladies being invited to dine at his table, and the following day -they were sent under escort back to Quebec. - -The general aspect of affairs grew daily more and more serious for English and -French alike. Dysentery and fever broke out in the English camp. On the French -side the Canadians were deserting in great numbers, and food was becoming -daily so scarce that the rations had to be again and again reduced. English -ships prevented food arriving from Montreal by the river, and the conveyance -by land was both slow and expensive. In Quebec there was real suffering. - -To add to the English troubles, General Wolfe became so seriously ill that it -was feared the end could not be far off. He was utterly prostrate, and could -only at times rouse himself to attend to business. But in his own mind he was -maturing long-conceived plans; and when at last an alleviation to his -sufferings had been obtained, he dictated a letter to Brigadier-Generals -Monckton, Townshend, and Murray, laying three different plans for attacking -the enemy before them. They answered that they considered none of them -feasible, but proposed placing part of the English army between Quebec and its -means of supply, thus forcing Montcalm either to fight or surrender. Wolfe -accepted this alternative; but he was utterly dependent even for the power to -act upon his physician. - -“I know you cannot cure me,” he said; “but pray make me up so that I may be -without pain for a few days, and able to do my duty. That is all I ask.” - -“I will do my best,” answered the physician; and he so far succeeded, that by -the first days of September Wolfe was able to mount his horse and show himself -to his men. But the difficulty still remained unsolved. How could they land -the troops so as to surprise the French and approach Quebec? As Montcalm had -said, only by treason could it be accomplished. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVIII - -AT LAST - - -“If you will allow me, I will reconnoitre. Disguised as an Indian, I can -approach both the Indian and Canadian camps. I can even penetrate into Quebec -itself. I know the language, I know their ways; I am the man most fitted to -undertake this task. Information you must have before risking the safety of -the whole army.” - -“He is quite right, and Captain Roger is the only man who, with the least -chance of success, can undertake to procure us that information, without which -it is almost madness for us to attempt a landing. If he is willing to risk his -life, we shall be his debtors,” said Colonel Howe. - -“I am willing,” answered Roger. “With my knowledge of Indian and Canadian -warfare, I run very little danger of being caught. You have decided, I think, -to take the fleet up the St. Lawrence, and to effect a landing on the other -side of Quebec. That there is a footpath or a subterraneous passage somewhere -in the neighbourhood of what is called L’Anse de Foulon I am certain. I have -heard that it is a spot much favoured by smugglers. The Jesuits had a depôt in -the neighbouring cliffs; and since then Bigot and his crew are said to make it -their hiding place. The whole thing lies in a nutshell--to discover the path -and to assure myself to what extent it is fortified.” - -“Just so,” exclaimed Wolfe excitedly. “If only we could secure a footing on -the plain and force the French to fight us!” - -“In two days at latest if I am alive I will report to you; if I fail in my -attempt I will at least try to send you a message,” said Roger. - -“Of all the services you have rendered us, Captain Roger, and they have not -been a few, this will be the greatest,” said the General, holding out his -hand. “If I could only bring this war to a close I should die happy.” - -“Let us hope you may live to enjoy the fruits of your long anxiety, General,” -said Roger; and he took his leave. - -As the door closed upon him Colonel Howe turned to Wolfe, saying, “He’ll do -it. There’s not such another fellow in the army; and now my advice is to break -up the camp here and embark a great portion of the troops. The French will -imagine we are preparing to sail for England.” - -This plan was carried out, General Wolfe going on board the _Sutherland_. - -Admiral Holmes’ fleet, with three thousand six hundred men on board, sailed up -and down the river, The French were thus kept night and day on the watch to -oppose their landing; and Montcalm, though he fully believed the English were -on the eve of their departure, never for one moment relaxed his vigilance, -feeling sure Wolfe would not be satisfied to withdraw without striking one -decisive blow. So by night and by day he was on foot, trusting no one’s -supervision save his own. He had sent three thousand men to Bougainville, -above Quebec. Captain de Vergor, with a hundred Canadians, was posted on the -heights near the town; this spot was looked upon as perfectly safe, being -inaccessible, and was therefore considered sufficiently protected. - -The town of Quebec was suffering greatly from the effects of the English fire. -The handsome houses which adorned the quay were in ruins, literally shelled -out. Many of the churches were destroyed, the cathedral dome was laid open, -and the convent and garden of the Ursulines were torn up by the falling bombs. - -The nuns had dispersed, some taking refuge at the General Hospital, going -sadly from their cloistered schoolrooms and little ones to the sad hospital -wards, now filled with the wounded and dying, and where their services were -needed by night and by day. Mercèdes with Marthe had found refuge in their old -rooms, and had taken with them Charles Langlade’s boy. They had managed to -inform the father of this, and he had sent back word entreating them to guard -the child, as Nadjii’s father Ominipeg--the “Black Eagle,” as he was -surnamed--was seeking for him, fearful lest he should fall a prisoner into the -hands of the English. - -Charles himself had to feign ignorance of the child’s whereabouts, so as not -to rouse the chief’s anger at a moment when his services were so requisite; -therefore he commended the boy to their care until such time as he could send -for or fetch him, and they accepted the charge, and from henceforth kept him -concealed, never leaving him. - -When Roger quitted General Wolfe’s presence, he was determined at any risk to -discover something, let it be what it might, which would enable the English to -reach the French. He was heartily sick of the war; the ruined homesteads, the -misery he saw at home and abroad, and the many hardships he himself had -endured, made him long for peace, almost at any price. - -If Wolfe set sail for England it would all have to be begun over again. The -Indians, encouraged by the French Government, would once more commit -depredations on the frontier settlements, and rapine and ruin would ensue; and -then with the spring the war would be renewed. No, much as he might regret the -alternative, he felt that either the English must conquer, or they must be so -beaten as to allow of no return. It was France or England. - -There was very little difference between the Rangers’ dress and that of the -Canadian scouts. The militia had a sort of uniform, but it was never very -strictly adhered to; especially as time went on, and the difficulty of -procuring materials of any sort increased. - -The French guarded the river banks, and it would require great skill to land; -yet that night, after sunset, a boat ran along the coast, and when the -sentries challenged it, the answer seemed satisfactory; for it passed on up -the river towards Quebec, without apparently attempting to avoid observation. -One or two shots were fired at it from English ships, but in the darkness they -evidently missed it, for the boat shot past and suddenly disappeared in a sort -of cove, on either side of which high cliffs rose almost perpendicularly. - -Roger had been absent four days. It was the evening of the 11th of September. -Autumn was settling down over the land, to be succeeded by the bitter Canadian -winter. - -“He’s failed, probably been killed; he’d have been back before now if he had -discovered anything,” said Wolfe, in a voice of hopeless despair, standing on -the foredeck of the _Sutherland_. John Jervis, Earl of St. Vincent, and George -Carleton, Lord Dorchester, the friends of his boyhood, were beside him. - -“You have no right to speak so positively. It is only four days since he -started, and a man like Roger is certain to have taken his precautions; he is -not likely easily to allow himself to be trapped,” said the former; and even -while he spoke a shrill whistle fell on their ears, and, looking down, they -saw a canoe with an Indian in it lying close under the bulwarks. - -“It’s he!” said Lord Dorchester; and a few seconds later Roger stood in their -midst. - -“Well, any news?” said Wolfe, coming forward. - -“I should not be here now if I had none,” said Roger, in a low voice; “but -first let me take off these trappings and give me some food. I have touched -nothing for twenty-four hours, and then only a crust of bread.” - -“Come into my cabin,” said Wolfe, and he led the way. - -Half an hour later the chief officers on board the _Sutherland_ were summoned -to the General’s cabin. - -Wolfe was walking up and down, two deep red spots on his pale thin cheeks, his -eyes glittering. - -“Gentlemen,” he said, “Captain Roger will tell you what he has seen and heard. -You will judge whether the plan he proposes be possible; myself I tell you at -once that, notwithstanding all the apparent difficulties, I consider it the -only thing open for us to attempt; there is a possible chance of success. Will -you explain your plan, Captain?” - -“It is not necessary for me to tell you,” said Roger, “how I came by the facts -I am going to lay before you, and from them to the conception of a plan which, -though desperate, is in itself simple. You saw my disguise. I have assumed -several during the last few days, by means of which, and by my knowledge of -Indian and Canadian habits, I have managed to approach the different camps, -and at last penetrated even into Quebec. Here, by means of bribery, I -succeeded in being introduced into Captain Vergor’s own quarters on the -heights overlooking Quebec, and can now assure you from personal evidence -that, fully persuaded of their secure position, they are left practically -unguarded. The officer in command goes quietly to bed, and has, moreover, -weakened his guards by allowing the Canadians to go home to their villages to -help get in their harvest.” - -“But, taking all this for granted,” said Lord St. Vincent, “we have still -those heights to scale before we can dislodge even so poor a watch.” - -“I am coming to that,” said Roger. “Food is not only lacking in Quebec, but -the soldiers in camp are absolutely without bread, or even flour. The -commissariat declared yesterday it could distribute no further rations. You -may imagine the effect of this; but they were buoyed up with the assurance -that a number of boats are coming from Quebec to the camp with provisions. -Where these boats land, we can,” said Roger, “and I discovered that the spot -fixed upon is the Anse de Foulon, the old smuggling cove. Last night, -disguised as an Indian, I paddled into it, accompanied by a man I have sworn -not to name. He pointed out to me what he called a path, and then left me in -terror lest we should be surprised. The moon was fitful, if you remember, last -night; nevertheless, it sufficed me to discover what we want. It is a steep, -precipitous ascent; half-way up trees have been felled and laid across, -forming a thick abattis; then there is a deep gap some ten feet across and six -feet deep; after this the road widens out, and though the ascent is steep, it -is comparatively easy. I will undertake to lead a body of men to the top -to-morrow night, if you consent. We shall take Vergor and his guard by -surprise; and when this is accomplished you can land your troops under cover -of night, and by morning you can range them in order of battle on the heights -overlooking Quebec.” - -“Land a whole army! It is incredible!” said Lord St. Vincent. “Allowing that -the path be unguarded, there are sentries all along the river.” - -“But they are expecting their own provision boats,” said Wolfe. “If our boats -go down in advance, they may easily mistake us for them in the darkness. Howe, -will you take the lead with Captain Roger? He will show you the way.” - -“Certainly I will,” said Colonel Howe. “I have implicit confidence in the -Captain. Give us a score of men, and we will see if we cannot reach the top -and dislodge a parcel of sleepy Frenchmen;” and he laughed lightly, as if he -had been proposing a pleasure party. - -“Then, gentlemen, that is settled; to-morrow night we make the attempt,” said -Wolfe, in a decided voice. “Captain Roger, you had better turn in and take a -good long rest,” and he held out his hand to Roger. - -“Thank you, I shall be all the better for a good sleep;” then, turning to -Colonel Howe, he added, “Unless I am very much mistaken, Colonel, you and I -shall see the sun rise over Quebec the day after to-morrow. I am glad it -should be so.” - -“So am I,” answered the Colonel heartily, and they shook hands. - -“I think we are all glad,” said several voices. - -“Even if it be the dawn of my last day on earth, I shall greet it with -thankfulness,” said Wolfe, and the council broke up for a few hours. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIX - -ON THE PLAINS OF ABRAHAM - - -The following day the English vessels and boats drifted up the river with the -tide, within sight of the French sentinels, as if they were seeking a landing -place; they had done this more or less for the last week, so Bougainville, who -was encamped on the St. Charles, watched them without anxiety, satisfied that -they would repeat the same manœuvre on the morrow. - -As night drew on, Admiral Saunders, stationed opposite Beauport, opened fire -upon the French, under cover of which the troops were embarked. Whether due to -the excitement or to the remedies administered by his physician, Wolfe -certainly for that day seemed to have taken a new lease of life. But in his -own mind, we are told, the certainty that his end was near never for one -moment forsook him. As he paced up and down the _Sutherland_, gazing at the -deep blue autumnal sky overhead, to those who watched him his pale face seemed -almost transfigured by the light and fire in his eyes. A young midshipman, -John Robinson, to whom he had shown especial kindness, standing near him, -heard him slowly recite those words which may truly be called his death elegy, -so inseparably have they become linked with his name:-- - - “The boast of Heraldry, the pomp of Pow’r, - And all that Beauty, all that Wealth e’er gave - Await alike the inevitable hour: - The paths of glory lead but to the grave.” - -And, seeing that the lad was watching him, he laid his hand on his shoulder, -adding, “I had rather be the author of that poem than take Quebec.” - -At two o’clock on the morning of the 13th, the signal was given for the troops -to enter the boats, and seventeen hundred men took their places in them, and -slowly drifted down the stream to their destination. - -The French sentries placed along the shore, notwithstanding the darkness, -became aware of a more than usual traffic on the river, and challenged them. - -“_Qui vive?_” - -“France,” answered Colonel Howe. - -“Which regiment?” - -“_La Reine_,” answered the same officer, who knew that Bougainville commanded -part of that regiment, and so they passed on. Lower down the river they were -once more challenged. This time the answer was, “Provision boats. Don’t make a -noise, the English will hear us.” - -In the darkness, Captain Roger, Colonel Howe, and twenty-four volunteers rowed -up to the low sandy beach at the foot of the crags, which seemed to rise -perpendicularly from the water’s edge. - -The volunteers were picked men. A few of Roger’s best Rangers were amongst -them. No sentry was on the shore; no alarm was given. - -The order for perfect silence had been issued, and Roger leading the way, as -noiselessly as possible the ascent was begun. Like shadows they moved up the -pathway, crawling often on their hands and knees, the foremost removing -obstacles for those who came after, till at last they gained the top, and saw -before them the cluster of white tents. No word of command was given. That -silent group of brave men realised to the full at that moment that victory or -defeat was in their hands, and with the impulse to conquer or to die in the -attempt, they rushed into the sleeping camp before the slightest sound -announced their presence. Captain Vergor was in bed; he was shot, but not -mortally, and made prisoner. The same fate awaited others, but in the darkness -the greater number of the French fled. Then there arose from the heights such -a cheer as only true-born Britons can give forth in the hour of triumph, and -it was answered from below by men waiting breathlessly in the boats to know -whether they too might scale the long dark slope of the woody precipice--the -path to victory! General Wolfe was the first to leap ashore, and in his -excitement he struck the earth with his sword’s point, as if claiming it for -Old England. - -And then the ascent began, each man with his musket slung over his shoulder. -Trenches were leapt, abattis were broken through; the stream of men came -pouring up from the boats, which, as soon as they were emptied, rowed back to -the ships and brought more, until all the troops were landed. - -The day was hardly dawning when Wolfe stood with the advanced troops on the -heights. Anxiously, with penetrating eyes, he gazed in the direction from -whence he supposed the French would come. At the expiration of an hour, when -almost all the English troops had reached the summit, a cloud of dust, like -smoke, with flashes of light, was seen on the horizon. - -“The French!” said Wolfe calmly, pointing to the long line growing ever more -and more distinct in the increasing morning light. On an open tract of grass, -interspersed with cornfields, having on one side the St. Lawrence, and sloping -down on the other to the St. Charles, General Wolfe and his officers stationed -the English army, numbering in all three thousand five hundred men; and there, -on the ever-celebrated Plains of Abraham, they awaited their adversaries. - -Montcalm, when first informed of the landing of the English, exclaimed,-- - -“It can be but a small party come to burn a few houses and retire.” - -He sent at once to Vaudreuil, who was quartered near Quebec, but receiving no -answer, at six o’clock he mounted, and, accompanied by Langlade and Johnstone, -rode towards the town. As he crossed the St. Charles, he saw on the heights -above Quebec the long red line of the English army calmly awaiting him. He -knew now that it must be fought out. He turned his horse’s head to the -Governor’s quarters; a short and sharp altercation ensued, and then Montcalm, -joining his army, rode towards the battle-field, where already the battalion -of Guienne had taken up its position. The white-and-blue uniforms of the -regular French army, flanked by the sombre-clad Canadians, were clearly -visible; whilst the Indians in their war-paint, with their waving plumes and -steel hatchets, were stationed some twenty paces in advance, with orders to -throw themselves into the first breach made in the English ranks by the French -balls. - -To the sound of the drums the five battalions of Grenadiers, in their long -black gaiters, marched to the front. Arrived within forty paces of the -English, they halted, and the two armies, face to face with each other, waited -in solemn, silent hesitation. Old enemies on a new soil, on how many a -European battle-field had their forefathers fought for dominion! And now they -waited, awed, on this virgin soil, who should begin this mortal duel. - -In a clear voice the word of command flew along the English line. A sound as -of thunder broke forth, rolling along, to be repeated in continuous roar; and -as the smoke cleared off, in the French ranks there were deep gaps, as if a -scythe had passed through cutting them down. The battle was begun. - -Another volley, and yet another. The militia, which was interspersed with the -regular French troops, unable any longer to stand the fire, hesitated. -Montcalm saw it. - -“Forward, forward!” he cried, showing with the point of his sword the English -ranks still unmoved. At the same moment a ball struck him. - -[Illustration] - -“You are wounded, General,” said an officer beside him. - -“It is of no account, sir. Ride forward and rally the Canadians; they are -retreating.” Himself he sprang forward into their midst. - -“Courage, my children, courage!” he cried; but another ball struck him, and -his white uniform was stained with blood. - -“Support me; do not let them see me fall,” he murmured, striving with a -superhuman will to keep himself erect. - -At that moment Wolfe gave the order to charge, and the wild yell of the -Highlanders, mingled with the British cheer, rose loud and fierce. - -A shot shattered Wolfe’s wrist; he wrapped his handkerchief round it and went -on. A second shot struck him; he still advanced. A third pierced his breast; -he staggered and fell. Then the officers surrounding him carried him to the -rear. - -“Send for a surgeon,” said Lord St. Vincent. - -“There is no need; it is all over with me,” he answered. - -“They run; see how they run!” cried some one. - -“Who run?” asked Wolfe, with a sudden return to life. - -“The enemy, sir; they give way everywhere.” - -“Tell Colonel Burton to cut off their retreat from the bridge,” he said; and -turning on his side, he added, “Now, God be praised, I will die in peace.” - -A few minutes later, for him the battle of life was over. - -But to his country he left a rich heritage, with which his name is ever linked -in high honour. Canada became then and is now one of the brightest jewels of -the British Empire. She was bought with the price of many a young and noble -life, but, ever loyal and true to England and her sovereigns, she has proved -herself worthy of the sacrifice. - -Canada has, moreover, taught the world the lesson that two peoples, supposed -to be antagonistic, can live together in perfect peace and harmony, side by -side in the same cities, each speaking their own language and retaining their -own customs. The wisdom and conciliatory policy of the British Government -effected this union, which has been pacifically maintained ever since. The -French population, which far outnumbered the English, finding themselves -treated with justice, and, instead of being driven forth, encouraged to remain -in the land, assured of religious freedom and the equity of the laws, -willingly submitted to the new rule, and have proved as faithful subjects as -their English brethren. - - - - -CHAPTER XXX - -THE VANQUISHED - - -The Indians had fought bravely. Charles Langlade and their chief Ominipeg had -kept them steady. Long after the Canadians were in full retreat they lay -behind a mound firing without ceasing on the English, who were advancing upon -them. Then a strange thing happened. - -Ominipeg stood on a grassy knoll, on the left side of which were high bushes, -and looked around upon the battle-field. He knew that Montcalm was wounded; he -saw the Canadians flying before the English: the cause was lost; he and his -tribe would ere long be prisoners. - -The Black Eagle could not brook defeat. Charles Langlade, lying on the ground -at a little distance firing on the English, saw him suddenly stoop behind the -bushes and gather something in his arms. A cry, a child’s cry, even through -the din of battle reached his ears, and a terrified baby face, round which the -soft fair curls clustered, appeared before his agonised gaze. To spring -forward to seize him would have been the work of a second, but Ominipeg was -too quick for him. Clasping the child tightly in his arms, with horrible -cries, brandishing his enormous battle-axe, the Indian chief, followed by his -whole tribe, dashed into the midst of the enemy. - -The yells and war-whoops of the savages gradually died out as the English -bayonets pierced their naked bodies, and they lay upon the ground a bleeding -mass of humanity. They had fulfilled their code of honour; they had died for -the cause they could not save! - -And the Black Eagle, with his daughter’s child, the little “White Chief,” as -he had been surnamed, lay foremost among the slain. A shot had struck Charles -Langlade to the ground before he could advance a step to save the child. - -That morning, at early dawn, when the first alarm had reached Quebec, a young -Indian had passed rapidly through the streets, gained the house inhabited by -Mercèdes, and knocked loudly at the door of her apartment. - -“Who is there?” asked Marthe. - -“Langlade; open quickly,” was the answer. She hastened to obey; the Indian -glided into the room, looked round, and saw the child sleeping in its little -bed. To snatch it in his arms, smothering its cries, and disappear with it, -was the work of a second. - -Roused by the noise, Mercèdes came running in, but the child was gone. Marthe -was wringing her hands, and in short, incoherent phrases told Mercèdes what -had happened. - -But events were to succeed each other so rapidly that they had hardly time to -breathe, much more think. So accustomed had they become to the bombardment of -the city that, though it sounded more continuous and louder than usual that -morning, they attached no especial importance to it; but a nun with a white, -terrified face came to them from the Superior, bidding them repair at once to -the General Hospital, that the English were on the Heights of Abraham, and -that a great battle was being fought. Wrapping their black cloaks around them, -and drawing their hoods over their heads in such a way as to conceal their -faces, they hastened to obey, passing quickly through the streets, in some -parts crowded by frightened citizens driven forth from their half-ruined -houses, in others swept clean by the bombs which came whizzing down from the -English batteries. Very white and fixed was the young novice’s face as she -glided along. She suddenly came to a standstill, almost in front of the Church -of the Ursulines, where a crowd was gathered, which opened to let a party of -soldiers, carrying a litter which had been hastily constructed out of guns -crossed one over the other, pass on their way. - -The brilliant rays of the sun fell full upon the livid face of the man who lay -thereon. The waxen features were thrown into relief by the black military -cloak around him. - -Not a cry escaped Mercèdes’ lips, though in that second she had had time -enough to recognise her father; but like an arrow she flew to his side. One of -the officers knew her, and gently and pityingly made way for her, and she -entered the church with the litter; then the heavy doors were closed to keep -back the surging crowd. Slowly, with measured steps, surrounded by his -officers, they bore him up the nave; in front of the high altar the soldiers -laid down their precious burden, and Mercèdes, kneeling beside him, raised his -hand to her lips. He made no sign of being even aware of her presence; his -eyes were fixed, his features immovable; his soul was still on the -battle-field in the agony of that first moment of defeat. A surgeon had been -hastily summoned, who examined the patient and probed the wound; but not a -muscle of Montcalm’s face moved even under that agony. When it was over, and a -temporary dressing had been applied, he said, “Well, sir, how long have I to -live?” - -“General,” answered the surgeon, in a low, pained voice, “a few hours only.” - -“All the better,” he said. “I shall not see the English enter Quebec,” and he -closed his eyes. Notwithstanding the wounds received on the battle-field, -borne by the tide of the fugitives the General had ridden into Quebec at the -head of the army, crossed the bridge under the northern rampart, and entered -the palace gate. At that moment another shot reached him, which, passing -through his body, proved fatal, and he was half lifted, half fell from his -horse; and so it came to pass that his soldiers bore him into the Church of -the Ursulines. - -Mercèdes and Marthe tended him. Quiet and loving were the words which from -time to time he spoke to them. A few only of those who surrounded them knew -that the pale-faced novice was his daughter. Michel, the gardener of the -Ursuline Convent, fetched and carried for them, and so that fatal day drew to -an end. - -Towards evening, Ramsay, the new Governor, came and asked Montcalm’s advice as -to how he might best defend Quebec. - -“Have you any orders to give me, General?” he asked. - -“Sir,” answered Montcalm, “I deliver into your hands the honour of France. I -shall spend my night with God preparing to die.” - -Then he asked for pen and paper, and desired one of his officers to write at -his dictation:-- - - “General,--The humanity of the English sets my mind at peace - concerning the fate of the French prisoners and the Canadians. - - “May you feel towards them as they have caused me to feel for - them. Do not let them feel that they have changed masters. Be - their protector, as I have been their father.” - -“Let this letter be sent without delay to General Wolfe,” he said, when with -difficulty he had succeeded in signing it. - -“It is rumoured that James Wolfe is either dead or dying,” replied one of his -officers. - -“He also!” said Montcalm. “At least he is happier than I am,” he added; “he -dies in the midst of his country’s triumph.” - -Shortly after this his face became livid. His sufferings were intense; he -could only from time to time give utterance to a few words in a low voice to -Mercèdes, tender remembrances for the loved ones at home! About midnight the -Bishop Pont Briand administered the last Sacraments of the Church in which he -had lived and was now dying. - -Gently, almost painlessly, he lingered until the dawn of a new day, and as the -light began to creep into the sacred building his eyes closed. When the -surgeon, who had never left him, saw the eyelids droop, he shook his head -sadly, slipped his hand under the white uniform so deeply stained with blood, -and waited a few minutes, then he rose. - -“Gentlemen,” he said, turning to the group of officers who stood watching, -“that great heart has ceased to beat.” - -Mercèdes never moved, her head was bowed low on her father’s bier; Marthe -alone wept, kneeling there beside her master. - -Then suddenly the doors of the church were thrown open, and the crowd which -had been waiting patiently outside came flocking up the nave. Soldiers of that -poor defeated army, inhabitants of Quebec, Canadians, savages, pressed around -to take a last look at the brave General who had so gallantly defended them. -In the dim morning light the torches flared, showing the half-ruined church, -the roof laid open, through which the sky looked down, shattered pillars, the -pavement torn up by bombs which in bursting had made deep holes; and in the -centre of all this ruin, surrounded by his officers, lay that still figure -wrapped in his black mantle, looking grander in death than he had done in -life. - -In the afternoon of the same day they carried him into the forsaken garden of -the Convent of the Ursulines. The bursting of a shell dug his grave, and there -they laid him, all who had known and loved him grieving, not for the hero so -much as for the man. - -Throughout that night two women knelt and prayed beside that lonely grave. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXI - -WEARY WAITING - - -“No news of the lads yet, Martha! Will they never come home?” said Nathaniel -impatiently, as he sat in the wide porch of Alpha Marsh one bright autumn day. - -“No, there be no news,” answered Martha sadly; “and yet they say the -fighting’s over for the present. I’m minded, if they’ve not both been killed, -they’ll be here before long.” - -“Both killed! Our bonnie lads, Martha? Nay, I cannot think God would have -spared my life and taken them. I’m not of much account now,” and he looked at -his arm, which hung helpless in his coatsleeve. - -“You’ve no need to fret; you’re wonderfully better,” said Martha. “And as for -the lads, it isn’t likely they’re together; they’ll be dropping in when we -least expect them, one after the other.” - -“God grant it,” said Nat; “but somehow I always see them together;” and he -rose from his chair, and went and stood by the wicket gate, looking down the -road which skirted the forest and led to the village. - -During the year which had elapsed since the Indians invaded Marshwood, it had -gradually resumed its former appearance of happy prosperity. Most of the -houses destroyed by the fire had been rebuilt; a fresh harvest had been -gathered in; and if some hearts still ached for those who had fallen, time was -gradually softening the horrors of that terrible night, and casting a halo -over the memory of the lost. - -Early the previous spring Martha Langlade had returned to Alpha Marsh, -bringing little Susie with her, though in truth she was “little Susie” no -longer, but a tall fine girl, very proud of her knowledge of city life, and -only desirous of returning to Boston, where they had left Marie, the happy -bride of young William Parkmann. - -Nathaniel Boscowen had to a great extent recovered his health; his arm alone -was still powerless; but as time went on his restless longing for the return -of the “lads,” as he called them, grew painfully intense. The news of the fall -of Quebec, and of both Montcalm’s and Wolfe’s death, had reached him in due -time, and from that hour he had, so to speak, waited by night and by day. - -“They’ll be here to-morrow,” he would say, with a sigh, when Loïs bade him -“Good-night”; and she would answer with a smile which grew every day -fainter,-- - -“Yes, Father Nat; they’ll be here to-morrow.” - -Several companies of Rangers had returned to their homes, bringing the -assurance that Roger was alive, that they had seen him after the battle; but -of Charles there was no news, and Loïs, like Nathaniel, waited, going -patiently about her daily work, with that look of hungry longing which grows -in women’s eyes from “hope deferred.” - -Between her and Roger there had been no words of reconciliation, but, beside -Nadjii’s grave, when they laid her to rest under the shadow of the great oak -tree in the home meadow, and in the long night watches by Father Nat’s -bedside, the hardness had melted out of Roger’s face; their hands had touched, -their eyes had looked into each other’s; once more it was “Loïs” and “Roger.” -And so, through all the months of sadness and loneliness after he left them, -Loïs bore up bravely, for hope, blessed hope, was hers. - -She worked as she had never done before, comforting the widows and clothing -and feeding the orphan children. Love gave her strength as only love can. -Through the bright short spring and long summer days she waited, with the -never-ceasing prayer upon her lips for “Peace, blessed peace.” But now for -many weeks she had had no news, save what the stray home-comers had brought; -and yet the war was over--the English were masters of Quebec. Why then did -Roger linger? - -Of late the habit had come to her of going to the upper windows and looking -out over the country. Vague rumours of Charles’ death had reached both her and -Marcus, but by common consent they hid it from Martha and Father Nat, who -always repeated, “The two will come together. Many things may have happened to -detain them on the road,” and both she and Marcus were thankful he should -think thus. But the winter was fast approaching, and then the land would be -icebound, and long dreary months must elapse before they could hope to see the -wanderers. Oh, how earnestly Loïs prayed for news, only for news, of them, and -it came to pass that her prayer was granted. But alas, how? - -Loïs was always up betimes. All the dairy work fell to her lot, and Martha had -been ailing lately, fretting for Charles, they all knew. As she stood in the -dairy, pouring the new milk, which the maids had just brought in, from the -pails into the earthen pans for setting, the old Indian woman Nokomis crept up -to her with a mysterious look on her face. - -“Well, Nokomis, what has happened? Have you burnt the cakes for breakfast?” -asked Loïs. - -She shook her grisly head and answered slowly, “Alas, alas, mistress! there be -those who will never eat of my cakes again, and yet he loved them! Old -Nokomis’ cakes--he’d take them half-baked out of the oven, for the smell of -them!” - -“Who are you speaking of?” said Loïs, hastily putting down the half-empty -pail. - -“Who should I speak of if not of the young master? Ah, it was an evil day when -Boscowen and Langlade parted; they’ll never come together again.” - -“What have you heard?” said Loïs, turning deadly pale. - -“The boy’s there; he can speak,” said Nokomis. - -“What boy?” asked Loïs. “Oh, Nokomis, if there be news of Roger and Charles, -do not keep me waiting.” - -Thus adjured, the Indian woman went to the door, made a sign to some one, and -in another minute an Indian youth entered and stood before Loïs. - -“What have you to tell me?” she asked tremulously. - -The boy answered,-- - -“I am Nadjii’s brother. I carried the boy away, but the White Chief, his -father, found him, and would have hidden him from Ominipeg, but he could not; -the ‘Black Eagle’ took him, and carried him into the battle, and they were -killed together. And last of all the White Chief was killed; I saw him fall. -They are all gone into the land of the Great Spirit.” - -“Do you mean to say my brother is dead?” said Loïs, leaning against the wall -to keep herself from falling. - -“Yes, I mean it; they are all dead, and I will stay here and serve you. I -loved the White Chief, and I served him. He told me many things. I will live -with the white man, and pray to the Great Spirit Jesus”; and suiting the -action to the word, he sat down upon the floor, in token that he meant to -abide there. - -Silence, a dead silence, fell upon them. The early morning light came creeping -in through the windows, a pale autumn light with no warmth or brightness in -it. A chill feeling of despair overpowered Loïs; she looked at the dark -messenger. Could he be speaking the truth? Might he not be mistaken? But she -knew the Indian lad; he had often brought her messages from Charles, even when -he was a mere child; now he was about fifteen, and there was no reason why he -should deceive her. What should she do with him? If she took him into the -kitchen the rest of the family would see him, and the news he brought would -spread from mouth to mouth, until it reached the ears of her mother and Father -Nat. At present this must be avoided. - -“How have you travelled?” she asked. “And how long have you been on the road?” - -“I travelled the same way as the hunters, through the forests. I have come -often before; I know the way,” said the boy. “The moon was new when I started; -it is full now.” - -“You must be tired; you had better rest. Nokomis, take him to the attic next -yours in Omega Marsh, and be careful that neither my mother nor Father Nat -sees him, until I tell you. Give him bread and meat, and all he needs. You -will keep quiet for a day or two, until I know what to do,” she said to the -boy. - -Her eyes were full of tears, her lips trembled; she never for one moment -doubted the truth of the story he told. Her brother was dead, the child was -dead, and Roger--where was he? - -Nokomis signed to the Indian to follow her, and skirting the outhouses, they -reached the back entrance to Omega Marsh, which was at present only inhabited -by herself and one or two men, Father Nat having remained since his illness at -Alpha Marsh. - -“You lie quiet here. Nokomis bring you food: you sleep; no work.” And to this -pleasant prospect the Indian readily acquiesced. Nevertheless Nokomis, when -she left him, took the precaution of turning the key and putting it in her -pocket. - -Two days later, when she went in the early morning to take him his food, he -was gone; the dormer window was open, and, looking out, she knew he had -escaped by the roof. Here and there a creeper had been loosened, and in the -grass and on the ground below she saw traces of feet--not the Indian’s naked -feet only, but the print of a woman’s shoe; and she stood and looked, then -went across to Alpha Marsh, her eyes fixed on the ground, like a dog on the -scent. As she passed Bob’s kennel she saw it was empty. - -“Bob, Bob!” she called. There was no answer. “He gone too,” she muttered -between her teeth. Taking the key of the back kitchen from the hiding place -where she put it every night, she entered, looked round, went into the pantry, -examined the safe in which cold meats and other provisions were kept, lifted -the cover of the bread-bin, and counted the loaves. While she was thus -occupied Marcus entered. - -“What are you doing, Nokomis?” he asked, watching her curiously for a few -seconds. - -“Where’s Loïs?” she asked, looking up at him. - -“Not yet up, I suppose,” he answered. “She’s overslept herself--an unusual -thing for her.” - -“You go and look in her room. I tell you she’s gone.” - -“Gone! Where should she be gone?” said Marcus. - -“To bring the lads home,” said Nokomis; and then for the first time Marcus -heard of the arrival of the Indian lad, the story he related, and how he had -disappeared. - -“Why did she not tell me?” he thought bitterly; and yet his faith in Loïs was -so great that he checked the angry feeling, and went straight up to her room. -There he found the confirmation of Nokomis’ words. The bed had not been slept -in; Loïs was gone! But surely not without a word! No, there on the table was a -letter addressed to himself. - - “Dear Marcus,--Forgive me,” she wrote. “For the last two days and - nights I have prayed unceasingly for God to guide me, and it has - been borne in upon me that, notwithstanding all the Indian lad - tells me, Charles and the child are still living. At first I did - not think so; but now I do. I know where Charles put the child--in - the Convent of the Ursulines at Quebec; I am going there. Tell - Father Nat and the mother that I have had news of Charles; that he - needs me, therefore I am gone to him. They shall hear soon; but do - not let them know the rumour of his death. Why should they grieve, - perhaps without a cause? I have taken money, my Indian guide, and - Bob. Have no fear for me; God and His angels will guide my steps. - I am going forth in His strength, without fear, to bring our dear - ones home. Pray for me, and tell John Cleveland to pray for me in - the congregation on the Sabbath Day, until I come back to you all, - and we settle down in peace. I go without warning you; not from - mistrust, but because I know you would wish to go in my stead, and - that must not be. You are all that is left to us. If harm befell - you, the Marshes would indeed be without a master and desolate. I - am only a woman! - - “Your loving sister, - “Loïs.” - -“And truly a brave one!” said John Cleveland, when he had read the letter, -which Marcus took straight down to the minister’s house. “You can but do as -she says; tell Father Nat she has been sent for, and is gone on the road to -meet Charles. You may be sure she’ll manage to send us news before many days -are over; we’ll just live from day to day in hope and prayer. If any one can -bring the lads home, Loïs can. Go about your work as usual, Marcus; tell -Nokomis to keep a silent tongue in her head. I’ll come up and see your mother -and Father Nat. No need to say she’s gone to Quebec: we don’t know whether -she’ll ever get there; maybe she’ll meet them on the road.” - -Marcus shook his head. - -“I do not think there is much chance of that,” he said. - -“How dare you say so?” said John Cleveland sharply; “and you who would be a -minister and teach others. With God nothing is impossible. Have faith, -lad--faith which can remove mountains,” and he clapped him on the shoulder, -adding, “And now I’ll just let my missis know I’m going to breakfast up at the -Marshes. I won’t leave you to face Father Nat alone. How he’ll live the day -through without Loïs, his right hand, is more than I can tell. She thinks -she’s of no account because she’s a woman, but we men should be badly off -without our womankind, even though there are not many like our Loïs. I only -want to live long enough to give her and Roger my blessing on their -wedding-day, and I believe I shall, and that before long.” - -It was no easy matter to hoodwink Father Nat. But she was gone; there was no -remedy: they could not go after her, not knowing which way she had taken; and -so, when Martha wept and wailed “that all her children were going from her,” -Nathaniel said quietly,-- - -“She’s a wise and a good lass, and the Lord is with her. No harm will come to -her, and maybe she’ll bring both the lads back.” - -And so they watched and waited at the Marshes, and the snow fell covering the -earth, and the rivers were icebound, and still there was no news of the -wanderers. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXII - -ON THE BATTLE-FIELD - - -The silver light of the moon was shining down on the battle-field, where the -dead and dying lay in hideous confusion, the night after the fray. Dark -figures moved stealthily to and fro, lanterns flashed on ghastly upturned -faces, piteous voices called for help, hands were stretched out praying for -mercy, too often only to meet death and spoliation. Birds of prey hovered -overhead. Alas for poor human nature! there were those abroad who reverenced -neither heroism nor death, but laid rude hands on their fellow-men, robbing -and mutilating the prostrate forms as they lay writhing in death’s agony. - -A group of half a dozen men in the well-known dress of the Royal Rangers had -found their way to that part of the battle-field where the Indians had made -their last fierce onslaught. The near approach of death had not extinguished -the passionate instincts of hatred and revenge; more than once the treacherous -knife gleamed in a dying hand seeking still to slay. Every precaution had to -be taken by the searchers, as they picked their way over the ground strewn so -thickly with the dead and dying, to avoid the murderous thrusts. - -“Look here, Captain!” and the speaker, a young man, pointed to where a red -chief lay, with a little child clasped in his arms. A shot had pierced the -baby heart, in kindly mercy quieting for ever its wild fluttering; but the -blue eyes were wide open still, and retained that look of terror mirrored in -them which gleamed there when death came, and the long fair curls were dabbled -in blood. - -The man who had been addressed as Captain stood looking down upon the group. -Pain, bitter pain, was visible in every line of his face. “It is Ominipeg,” he -said, and stooping, he lifted the dead child in his arms and wrapped it in his -bearskin. He and his companions knew enough of Indian customs to understand -how that infant came by his death--a chief’s son in the foremost ranks of the -slain! - -They renewed their search; and, at last, amidst those dark naked figures, with -their wild headgear and strange fantastic war-paint, they found him they -sought. He was lying propped up against a tree; evidently, when the battle was -over, he had dragged himself thither. Was he dead? Roger bent eagerly over -him, and took the hand which hung listlessly by his side. - -“Charles,” he said; and the strong man’s voice trembled. - -“Roger, am I dreaming, or have you come to take me home?” - -The drooping head is raised, and the cold fingers close over Roger’s. - -“We will go home together,” he said. “Are you much hurt, Charles?” - -“I do not know,” he answered dreamily. “Is the battle over? Are we beaten?” - -“The battle is ended,” said Roger; “and God grant it may be our last,” and he -signed to his men that the search was finished, that their help was needed. -They lifted the wounded man in their arms and slowly bore him off the -battle-field to where in the moonlight clustered the white tents of the -Rangers, and there they laid him down. - -Quebec had capitulated, notwithstanding Levis’ rapid march to its relief. -Ramsay paid but little attention to Montcalm’s last words, and, encouraged by -Vaudreuil, on the 18th surrendered to the English. Honourable terms were -granted. The garrison was to march out with the honours of war, and the troops -be carried back to France on English ships; the inhabitants to have protection -in person and property, free exercise of their religion, and all other -privileges of British subjects. These conditions having been formally agreed -to and signed, the British flag was raised on the heights near Mount Street, -and General Murray was named Governor of Quebec. - -As soon as he could do so, Roger had brought Charles into the city. He was -unconscious at the time, and the military surgeon gave but faint hope of his -recovery. It was a battle between life and death, but youth and a strong -constitution aiding, Roger was at last rewarded by seeing Charles enter upon -what might be called convalescence; but by that time winter had set in, and -there was no possibility of communicating with Marshwood. “I ought to have -thought of sending a messenger immediately after the battle,” Roger said; “but -I didn’t know quite what you meant to do, so I waited, and now it is too -late.” So time passed on. - -One evening, a lady, deeply veiled, came to the house where the two friends -lodged, and, asking to see Mr. Langlade, was admitted. - -Charles was seated in an armchair near the large open fireplace; he turned as -the stranger entered, and, when she raised her veil, exclaimed, “Madame Péan!” - -“Yes,” she said, coming forward; “I heard you were in Quebec, where I myself -have been detained by severe illness, and I have come to you with a message -from Mercèdes Montcalm.” - -“She is well, I trust?” said Charles, in a low voice. - -“Yes, she is,” answered Madame Péan, “and the day after to-morrow she takes -the veil. I have done the best I could to dissuade her, offering to take her -back with me to France in the spring, but she will not listen to me; her -place, she says, is by her father’s grave, in the convent garden, and the -Bishop and Mother Superior have consented to shorten her novitiate. One thing -troubles her, the loss of the child committed to her care by you. When I heard -you were in Quebec I told her, and she entreated me to come to you without -delay, to hear what had become of the child.” - -“He is dead,” said Charles; “his mother’s tribe stole him, lest he should be -made a prisoner, and he was killed. Tell her this, or not, as you deem best.” - -“If you will, you can tell her yourself,” said Madame. “She bids farewell to -her friends to-night; if you come to the convent, you can have speech with her -for the last time.” - -“I will come,” said Charles, his pale face flushing. - -“She thought you would,” said Madame; “she has not many friends to whom to bid -farewell, and the General loved you.” - -“Not better than I loved him,” said Charles, rousing himself. “Tell -Mademoiselle Mercèdes I will be at the convent to-night after vespers; and -thank you a thousand times for coming to me. I would not have missed seeing -her once more, for all the world,” and he held out his hand to Madame Péan. - -“I guessed as much,” she answered. Their eyes met, and she slowly shook her -head. “It is too late,” she said; “all that was earthly in her heart and soul -has dropped away from her and lies buried in her father’s grave. She has no -thoughts left which are not of heaven. And now I will leave you. As soon as -to-morrow’s ceremony is over I go to Montreal. Is there any service I can -render you? any request you have to make to Chevalier Levis? He is well aware -how you have behaved throughout the war, and would be only too glad if you -would join his poor remnant of an army, with which he still hopes to wrest -Canada from the English.” - -Charles shook his head. - -“He will never do that,” he said. “The cause is lost; he will only uselessly -sacrifice fresh lives. Is it not so, Roger?” - -“Most certainly it is. But, Madame,” said Roger, “if you would do my friend a -real service, it would be to obtain from the Chevalier for him and for me a -free pass through all the country still occupied by the French troops. We are -anxious to return to our people, but without this it would be almost -impossible during the winter; we should have to take such a circuitous route, -and my friend’s health is not sufficiently recovered to resist the cold and -fatigue; if we can pass through Montreal, it will shorten the journey -greatly.” - -“I will do my best,” said Madame Péan. “And now farewell; we are none of us -likely to meet again in this world. When the last French ship leaves the -shores of Canada, I shall sail in her, and go back to old France.” She dropped -her veil and rose. Charles also rose, and silently they shook hands; then -Roger re-conducted her to her carriage, and they took leave of each other. - -She had said truly they were never to meet again. - -That evening, as he had promised, Charles went alone to the convent. He waited -what seemed to him an eternity in the parlour, watching anxiously a grated -window in the wall, across which was a dark curtain; at last he saw it slowly -drawn back, and on the opposite side, with a face almost as white as her veil, -stood Mercèdes. - -“Thank you for coming,” she said, in a low, calm voice. “Before bidding my -last farewell to the world, I desired greatly to see you, to tell you how I -have grieved for the child you committed to my care. I loved him very dearly. -I would not have parted from him if I could possibly have done otherwise; but -we were taken by surprise. Before even Marthe, who was in the room with him, -was aware of it, he was gone; we had no time to prevent it; he was truly -spirited away. I pray you forgive me: it has been a bitter grief to me.” - -“Forgive you!” exclaimed Charles. “Surely you never for one moment thought I -blamed either you or Marthe? Knowing the Indians would use every means in -their power to get hold of my poor little son, I placed him with you, -believing he must be safe in the convent. How could either of us imagine you -would be driven out into the world again? How can I harbour one thought of -blame against you! Indeed, I almost think it best for him to be at rest. Had -he lived, his would have been a very divided life. He must have suffered, and -I for him. I am content. It is well with the child.” - -“I am thankful to hear you speak thus,” answered Mercèdes. “Truly all God does -is well done. And now, Monsieur Langlade, I will bid you farewell. You will go -back to the world to which, to-morrow, I shall for ever bid adieu; but I wish -to thank you for many pleasant hours and for much kindness, but, above all -things, for your faithfulness to my dear father. I beg you to cherish his -memory, and be assured I shall ever remember you in my prayers.” - -“No one who has ever lived with General Montcalm as I have can possibly forget -him. I shall cherish his memory as long as I live,” said Charles, with deep -emotion. - -“Thanks, I am glad to think it will be so,” and a faint smile lighted up her -pale face. “Adieu!” and she passed her hand between the iron bars. “Wear this -in remembrance of him,” she added, slipping a ring of great price on his -finger. - -“I will never part with it. Adieu,” repeated Charles, and stooping, he touched -the tips of her fingers with his lips. When he raised his head she had -disappeared. - -The following morning he was amongst the spectators who witnessed the ceremony -of Mercèdes Montcalm taking the veil, and as he left the chapel his heart was -very sad within him. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIII - -A LONG JOURNEY - - -“Reverend Mother, there is a woman at the gate with an Indian lad and a big -dog. She is asking to speak with one ‘Mercèdes Montcalm,’” said old Michel, -the gardener and doorkeeper of the convent. - -“It is late, Michel; we cannot let strangers in at this hour. Tell her she -must return to-morrow,” said the Reverend Mother of the Ursulines. - -“I told her as much,” said Michel; “but she bade me say she had travelled from -the far west, that she was very weary, and knew not where to go. She gave me -this,” and he handed her a slip of paper. - -“I am Loïs Langlade, Charles Langlade’s sister, and am come to fetch the child -my brother gave in charge to Mercèdes Montcalm.” - -“Poor thing!” said the Mother; “she does not know. This will grieve our new -sister, Marie Mercèdes; but you must bring the stranger in, Michel. Charles -Langlade’s sister cannot remain in the streets.” - -“And the Indian and the dog?” said Michel. - -“Keep them at the lodge,” said the Reverend Mother. The man went out. The -Mother rang a small bell beside her, which was answered by a serving sister. - -“Go to Sister Marie Mercèdes’ cell, and tell her to come here without delay,” -she said. As the sister went out, a tall figure wrapped in a thick cloak with -a hood drawn over her head entered, and with her a large wolf-hound, which she -held by its collar. - -“It was no use, Reverend Mother; he would have torn me to pieces rather than -leave her,” said Michel. - -“He knows I have only him to protect me,” said a gentle voice. “Indeed, he is -quite harmless as long as no one lays hands on me. Lie down, Bob,” and, -obedient to her word, the animal stretched himself at her feet. - -“My child,” said the Reverend Mother, “you have asked to see Mercèdes -Montcalm. She bade adieu to the world this morning; she is dead to all things -earthly.” - -“Dead,” repeated Loïs slowly; “it seems to me that every one is dead.” - -“Dead to the world, I said,” continued the Superior. “There is no Mercèdes -Montcalm, only Sister Marie Mercèdes. What do you want with her, my child? You -look very weary; sit down,” and she pointed to a chair. - -“I have come many hundred miles,” said Loïs, “in search of my brother and my -brother’s child. He sent me word that he had placed the boy here with Mercèdes -Montcalm.” - -“So he did,” answered the Reverend Mother. - -At that moment the door opened, and Loïs saw the small, darkly-clad figure of -a young nun enter. The face was very pale; the eyes had a strained look in -them, and were bright as if with fever. - -“Come hither, my daughter,” said the Reverend Mother. “I grieve to have -disturbed you at your devotions, but here is one who has come from afar to -fetch Charles Langlade’s little child. Will you tell her what you know -concerning it, so that she may be satisfied?” - -“Are you Loïs Langlade?” said Sister Marie, in a low voice. - -“Yes,” said Loïs; “tell me, where is the child?” - -“Why have you come to me instead of going to your brother? He would have told -you, and spared me the pain. Forgive me, Reverend Mother; it is still pain,” -said Sister Marie, bowing her head. - -“My brother!” said Loïs, rising quickly, and with such a ring of joy in her -voice,--“he is alive then, and you have seen him. Oh, tell me where to find -him!” and taking the nun’s hand, she pressed it to her lips. - -Sister Marie shivered slightly; she had not had time yet to forget. The -Reverend Mother answered for her. - -“He is alive, my child; but where he lodges we do not know, only there is one -who does. We will enquire to-morrow.” - -“To-morrow!” exclaimed Loïs. “Oh, Reverend Mother, I have waited so many -to-morrows! I am not weary; let me go to him to-night. And the child?” - -“Is at rest; him you cannot find,” said Sister Marie Mercèdes. “But your -brother is in Quebec,” she continued. “Madame Péan, in the Rue St. Louis, will -tell you where to find him. You must go to her to-night; to-morrow she leaves -Quebec.” - -“Thank God I am in time,” said Loïs, and bending her head in token of -farewell, she went towards the door. Bob rose and followed her. But suddenly -her strength seemed to fail her, and she staggered; Sister Marie Mercèdes was -beside her. - -“Lean on me,” she said gently, and placing her in a chair, she held some water -to her lips. Loïs drank eagerly. - -“Are you in want of food?” asked the Reverend Mother. - -“We have travelled all day,” said Loïs faintly; and hardly knowing that she -did so, she let her head rest on Sister Marie’s bosom. Once more the Reverend -Mother rang her bell. - -“See if there be some hot soup in the kitchen, and send Michel here,” she said -to the serving sister. Then, going up to Loïs, she added, “We will do what we -can for you, my child. What food we have you are welcome to, and I will send -Michel to find out where your brother lodges. It is snowing fast; you cannot -wander to and fro in the streets of Quebec to-night.” - -An hour later, warmed and comforted, Loïs rose to depart. Michel was to -conduct her to the address which Madame Péan had given. - -“May I kiss you?” said Loïs, holding the young nun’s hand in hers; and not -doubting what the answer would be, she kissed her in the old French-Canadian -fashion, on both cheeks. “Farewell, Madame,” she said, turning towards the -Reverend Mother. - -“God bless thee, my daughter. It grieves my heart to send you forth on such a -night; but you would not rest even if I sought to detain you, therefore go in -peace. Michel will see you safely to your journey’s end!” - -And so once more, with the snow whitening her black cloak and the Indian lad’s -bearskin, and followed by Bob, Loïs went forth. Surely she was nearing the -end! - - * * * * * - -“Roger, do you not hear some one knocking at the outer door? I could almost -think I heard old Bob bark. There it is again.” And truly a dog’s sharp -imperative bark rose loud and clear on the still night air. - -Without answering, Roger rose, left the room, and opened the front door, which -led out into the street. He was almost thrown backwards by the sudden rush of -the big wolf-hound, which sprang upon him with a bark of recognition, and then -bounded past. He was followed by two figures, and then the door was quickly -pushed back to keep out the snow which came drifting in. - -“Roger!” and Loïs, throwing back her hood, stood before him. - -“Oh, Loïs, my darling!” - -In the unexpected joy of that moment, the strong man’s pride gave way; the -love which had been so long kept in check rose all powerful, and without -uttering a word more, he gathered her in his arms and held her in a passionate -embrace. - -“Who is it? What has happened?” said Charles, coming out, the dog leaping -round him. - -“Look!” said Roger proudly, his voice trembling with emotion, as, still -encircling Loïs with his arm, he almost carried her into the sitting-room, -and, placing her in the armchair Charles had vacated, began loosening her -cloak. - -In that second of time the man’s face had utterly changed. His youth seemed to -have come back to him; the smile on his lips, the light in his eye, shone down -upon Loïs until she could hardly bear it, and, closing her eyes, the tears -rolled down her face. It was more than she had dared hope for. Together! she -had found them together, and it was as if all her strength forsook her with -the accomplished task. She who had been so brave broke down now; she had no -longer any need for strength. The touch of his hand, the few caressing words -which escaped him, told her that from henceforth the burden of life was lifted -from her shoulders, that the great harmony of perfect love for which she had -so patiently waited was hers at last. - -“Oh, Roger!” she repeated, and her arms were round his neck, her head upon his -shoulder, and, as if the floodgates of her soul had opened, her sobs filled -the room. Truly the clouds had broken at last, and even as she wept she saw -the rift and the blue sky shining forth, and she knew that the light of a new -day was dawning for her and for Roger. - -“Well, Loïs, have you no word for me?” said Charles reproachfully. - -She sprang up, exclaiming,-- - -“My dear brother, forgive me. I came to find you and take you home.” - -“And instead of one you have found two,” said Charles, kissing her. “My brave -sister, you deserve to be rewarded after such a quest. We will all go home -together. Surely if you came through the snow alone with Jim, we can return -the same way. What do you say, Roger?” - -“As soon as your strength permits it we will go,” answered Roger. “I saw that -Madame who came here yesterday again this morning, and she promised to send me -the passes necessary for us to get through that part of the country still held -by the French; once we receive them we can start--at least, as soon as you -feel strong enough.” - -“Then we shall not be here much longer,” said Charles. “The sight of Loïs -seems to have given me back my strength. We must be home for Christmas. Jim, -good Jim,” he said, patting the Indian boy’s head, as he crouched before the -fire. - -“I called him Jim when he was quite a little chap,” said Charles. “He has run -my commissions ever since he was able to run at all. You’ll stay with us -always now, Jim? After this last exploit of bringing Loïs up to Quebec we -can’t part with you.” - -“Jim never leave you, Nosa,”[8] answered the lad, raising his eyes, full of a -dog-like devotion, to Charles’ face. - -[Footnote 8: Father--Master.] - -“That is well. We will all go home together.” - -For the first time in her life Loïs knew what it was to be made much of, to be -cared for and thought for; she who had always cared for others. They remained -a week in Quebec, during which time Charles regained his strength with -marvellous rapidity. It seemed almost as if Loïs had brought the breath of -life with her from the old home. During that week Loïs visited the -battle-field on the Plains of Abraham, and all the spots which from henceforth -would be landmarks in the history of Quebec. Roger was, moreover, busy making -preparations for the homeward journey; sleighs were bought, strong horses to -draw them, furs to wrap themselves in, and a goodly store of provisions for -the journey. They were not going alone; besides his two faithful servants, a -company of Roger’s Rangers volunteered to accompany them; so that when they -started from Quebec they mustered about a score of souls. Loïs was like a -queen amongst them. General Levis had sent them free passes through the French -lines, so that no difficulties arose to impede their rapid progress. - -The land was icebound, the cold intense, but the weather brilliant. Down the -great St. Lawrence they went; across country, as only men born in the land and -knowing every inch of the ground they traversed could have done. Home, home, -was the watchword, before which every hardship seemed of no account. - - * * * * * - -“Father Nat! mother! here they are coming up the hill!” and Susie dashed into -the kitchen. - -No need to say who were coming. - -“Oh, my lads, my lads!” cried Father Nat, and bareheaded as he was, he strode -out through the garden into the high road, and stood with his arms stretched -out to welcome the children home. - - * * * * * - -From far and near, from villages and lonely farmhouses, in sleighs, on foot, -by land in the most primitive conveyances, skating along the icebound lakes -and rivers, the people came flocking to Marshwood to celebrate Roger the -Ranger’s and Loïs Langlade’s wedding-day. - -Never in the memory of man had such a Christmas Eve been witnessed. Brightly -the sun shone on the glistening snow, as the bride in her sleigh, decorated -with holly and evergreens, with white bearskins wrapping her round, was driven -by Father Nat himself down to the village church, amid the shouts and -joy-wishes of the crowd lining the hill-side and the long village street. -Roger’s Rangers had mustered in full force to do their Captain honour, and -very gay they looked in their red shirts and tan gaiters as they filed into -the church after the bridal party. - -There were few dry eyes in that assembly as the old minister rose to address -them, and in simple, strong words reminded them of the dark days and the -sorrows through which they had all passed. He spoke of the noble examples -which had been set to them by men such as Wolfe and Howe, and others whose -nameless graves were not without due honour. “And surely,” he added in -conclusion, “we New Englanders are more than ever bound to bring up our -children in the true faith, free men, lovers of that liberty for which so many -have bled, remembering always that the lives of great men are landmarks, -pointing those that come after to like deeds of high honour, not of idle -acquiescence in the past, but to be up and doing, regenerating the earth by -love, peace, and goodwill, even as the Christ, whose birthday we shall -celebrate to-morrow, brought peace and goodwill to man.” - -The merry-making lasted a whole week, and many of those who had come from afar -lingered still longer. Amongst the number were William Parkmann and his young -wife, and with them they had brought a sister of the former, Elizabeth -Parkmann, who took so kindly to the homely life of the Marshes, and more -especially to the master of Alpha Marsh, that Father Nat, radiant with joy, -said to John Cleveland, as they sat together in the chimney corner, “We shall -see Marcus in the pulpit yet, and Charles and Roger reigning in my stead.” - -“Amen, so be it!” answered the minister. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIV - -CONCLUSION - - -Six days after the battle on the Plains of Abraham, General Levis appeared -before Quebec, to find that the fortress had capitulated. His indignation knew -no bounds. He had been educated in General Montcalm’s school, and would not -recognise that France was defeated. With a handful of about three thousand -men, the remnant of the French army, he retired at first to Jacques Cartier, -and afterwards to Montreal, and coolly decided that he would continue the war -and re-conquer Quebec. Of such stuff heroes are made. They do not know when -they are vanquished! - -In the month of April 1760, two French ships, the _Atalanta_ and _Pomona_, -having on board ammunition and the necessary siege materials, slowly descended -the St. Lawrence, profiting by a narrow channel which a sudden thaw had opened -out right through the middle of the river. The troops, consisting of three -thousand regulars and two thousand Canadians and savages, marched with great -difficulty through the half-melted snow, until one morning they reached that -very Plain of Abraham where Wolfe and Montcalm had fought their mortal duel. - -General Murray, Governor of Quebec, immediately ordered a sortie, and offered -battle to the little French army. He had at his command four or five thousand -men and twenty-two pieces of artillery. - -It was the 28th of April, 1760. - -The assault of the French was terrific, the very impetus of despair. The -Canadians charged, having fastened knives into the ends of their guns to -supply the want of bayonets. The English artillery mowed down their ranks, but -still they advanced with drums beating furiously to the charge. To repair -their defeat, to die or to conquer, that was their sole object, and, thus -animated, they threw themselves on the English with such fury that they forced -them to retreat, and take refuge in Quebec; but not before they had left -twelve hundred dead upon that fatal field. The French themselves had their -brave general, Bourlamaque, severely wounded, and lost eight hundred men, the -whole corps of Grenadiers! - -Nothing daunted, General Levis laid siege to Quebec. The cannon which had been -taken from the English served him well, but he lacked ammunition. - -“If only one ship would come from France to our assistance before the English -fleet arrives, Quebec would once more be ours, and the white lilies of France -would float from her ramparts,” exclaimed General Levis, gazing out to sea, -watching with the yearning of his heroic heart for the succour which would -restore his lost prestige. - -It was on the evening of the 15th of May when in the distant horizon sails -were visible. Besieged and besiegers alike strained their eyes to recognise -from whence they came. Were they English or French ships? It is easy to -conceive the agonising suspense which filled every heart. The English -historian and eye-witness, Knox, has graphically described it as follows:-- - -“We stood gazing for some time up the river in an inexpressible state of -anxiety, until the sails became clearly visible, and we knew they were the -advance ships of the English fleet! It is impossible to describe the scene -which followed. Men and officers leapt on to the ramparts facing the French -army, and, waving their hats, gave vent for upwards of an hour to hurrahs and -shouts of delight. We had suffered much during the siege, and our deliverance -was therefore doubly welcome.” - -The news was greeted in England with almost equal enthusiasm. - -“Happy, happy day!” wrote Pitt. “My joy and satisfaction are beyond all -expression.” - -But still, though forced to raise the siege, having lost their two solitary -ships, and obliged to retire once more to Montreal, the remaining handful of -French soldiers and Canadians would not yield. Under the influence of a fixed -idea these last defenders of Canada seemed literally to have gone mad. Three -English armies of forty thousand men surrounded General Levis and his three -thousand six hundred soldiers who had taken refuge in Montreal. Montreal was -an open town, having round it only a low wall, originally intended to defend -it from the attacks of the savages. Of course all idea of defence was -impossible. Vaudreuil consented therefore to capitulate. - -But Levis, indignant at a clause in the capitulation in which General Amherst -refused the honours of war to his heroic troops, would not lay down his sword, -and retired with two thousand men to the Island of St. Helen; and only upon -the Governor Vaudreuil’s formal command did he at last yield, and laid down -his arms on September 8th, 1760, protesting to the last against the treatment -of the French troops, who, he declared, “merited more attention from Monsieur -de Vaudreuil, and more esteem from General Amherst.” - -Thus this terrible war, which had caused such a fearful sacrifice of human -life, and such great suffering, was over. The unhappy French soldiers were -sent on board English ships, and, in the midst of one of the most terrific -storms on record, bade adieu to the land they had fought so bravely to retain -for their own. But they left behind them a reputation which, as time goes on, -and events are seen through the halo of the past, grows in magnitude. England -herself glories in having vanquished such almost unconquerable defenders of -the soil; and their beloved General Montcalm lies in no unhonoured grave. In -raising a monument to their own victorious Hero, the conquerors did not forget -the great _vanquished Hero_. Side by side they stand in the fair city of -Quebec, telling of noble deeds and spotless fame--“Wolfe and Montcalm. With -courage they faced death. History has united them in glory, and Posterity has -erected this monument to their memory.” A noble epitaph, for noble men! - - -ROBERTS & JACKSON, PRINTERS, GRIMSBY. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROGER THE RANGER *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. 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F. Pollard</title> - <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover" /> - <style> - body { margin-left:8%; margin-right:8%; } - div.page { page-break-before:always; margin-top:4em; margin-bottom:4em; } - p { text-indent:1.15em; margin-top:0.1em; margin-bottom:0.1em; text-align:justify; } - h1 { text-align:center; font-weight:normal; font-size:1.4em; } - h2 { text-align:center; font-weight:normal; page-break-before: always; - font-size:1.0em; margin-top:3em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; } - h2.nobreak { page-break-before: avoid; } - .poetry { display:block; text-align:left; } - .poetry .stanza { margin-top:0.7em; margin-bottom:0.7em; margin-left:4em; } - .poetry .verse { text-indent: -4.5em; padding-left: 4.5em; } - .indent2 { text-indent: -3em; padding-left: 4.5em; } - .indent4 { text-indent: -1.5em; padding-left: 4.5em; } - .indent6 { text-indent: 0em; padding-left: 4.5em; } - .poetry-container { text-align: center; } - .sc { font-variant:small-caps; } - .ce { text-align:center; } - .it { font-style:italic; } - table.toc {} - table { page-break-inside: avoid; width:100%; } - table.tcenter { border-collapse:collapse; padding:3px; - margin-top:0.5em; margin-bottom:0.5em; - margin-left:2em; } - td { vertical-align:top; } - td.c1 { text-align:right; padding-right:0.7em; } - td.c2 { font-variant:small-caps; } - div.cbline { margin-left:1.4em; text-indent:-1.4em; } - .ifpc { margin-left:17%; width:65% } - .x-ebookmaker .ifpc { margin-left:12%; width:75% } - .i001 { margin-left:10%; width:80% } - .x-ebookmaker .i001 { margin-left:5%; width:90% } - .mt01 { margin-top:1em; } - .mb01 { margin-bottom:1em; } - .caption { text-indent:0; padding:0.5em 0; text-align:center; font-size:smaller; } - p.ni { text-indent:0; margin-top:1em; } - p.fn { font-size:0.9em; font-style:italic; } - </style> -</head> - -<body> -<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Roger the ranger, by Eliza Fanny Pollard</p> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Roger the ranger</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:1em;'>A story of border life among the Indians</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Eliza Fanny Pollard</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: August 5, 2022 [eBook #68694]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Roger Frank, Al Haines and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROGER THE RANGER ***</div> - -<div class='page'> - -<h1>ROGER THE RANGER</h1> - -</div> <!-- end of page --> - -<div class='page'> - -<div id='ifpc' class='mt01 mb01 ifpc'> - <img src='images/illus-fpc.jpg' alt='' style='width:100%' /> - <p class='caption'>“HE THREW THE WHOLE WEIGHT OF HIS BODY UPON ME AND STRUCK ME DOWN.”</p> -</div> - -</div> <!-- end of page --> - -<div class='page'> - -<div class='ce'> - <div style='font-size:1.2em; margin-bottom:0.5em'>ROGER THE RANGER</div> - <div class='it' style='margin-bottom:1.2em'>A STORY OF BORDER LIFE AMONG THE INDIANS</div> - <div style='font-size:0.9em'>BY</div> - <div style='margin-bottom:1.5em'>E. F. POLLARD</div> - <div style='font-size:0.8em'>AUTHOR OF “THE GREEN MOUNTAIN BOYS,” “TRUE UNTO DEATH,” ETC.</div> - <div style='font-size:0.9em; margin-top:1em;'>Publishers</div> - <div style=''>PARTRIDGE</div> - <div style='font-size:0.9em'>London</div> - <div style='font-size:0.9em'>MADE IN GREAT BRITAIN</div> -</div> - -</div> <!-- end of page --> - -<div class='page'> - -<div style='text-align:center'>CONTENTS</div> - <table class='toc tcenter' style='margin-bottom:3em'> - <tbody> - <tr><td class='c1'>I</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chI'>ESAU</a></td></tr> - <tr><td class='c1'>II</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chII'>PARTED</a></td></tr> - <tr><td class='c1'>III</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chIII'>BAD NEWS</a></td></tr> - <tr><td class='c1'>IV</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chIV'>“MY OWN FAMILIAR FRIEND!”</a></td></tr> - <tr><td class='c1'>V</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chV'>A HERO</a></td></tr> - <tr><td class='c1'>VI</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chVI'>A BRAVE HEART</a></td></tr> - <tr><td class='c1'>VII</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chVII'>THROUGH STORM AND TEMPEST</a></td></tr> - <tr><td class='c1'>VIII</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chVIII'>BY LAND</a></td></tr> - <tr><td class='c1'>IX</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chIX'>TRUE MEN</a></td></tr> - <tr><td class='c1'>X</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chX'>A NEW FRIENDSHIP</a></td></tr> - <tr><td class='c1'>XI</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chXI'>DIPLOMACY</a></td></tr> - <tr><td class='c1'>XII</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chXII'>A TERRIBLE DISASTER</a></td></tr> - <tr><td class='c1'>XIII</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chXIII'>BRAVELY DONE</a></td></tr> - <tr><td class='c1'>XIV</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chXIV'>SILENT INFLUENCE</a></td></tr> - <tr><td class='c1'>XV</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chXV'>LOST</a></td></tr> - <tr><td class='c1'>XVI</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chXVI'>FRIENDSHIPS</a></td></tr> - <tr><td class='c1'>XVII</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chXVII'>THROUGH THE FOREST</a></td></tr> - <tr><td class='c1'>XVIII</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chXVIII'>NADJII</a></td></tr> - <tr><td class='c1'>XIX</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chXIX'>THE ATTACK</a></td></tr> - <tr><td class='c1'>XX</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chXX'>“LIGHTEN OUR DARKNESS”</a></td></tr> - <tr><td class='c1'>XXI</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chXXI'>AT THE HELM</a></td></tr> - <tr><td class='c1'>XXII</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chXXII'>HOME NEWS</a></td></tr> - <tr><td class='c1'>XXIII</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chXXIII'>A CONFESSION</a></td></tr> - <tr><td class='c1'>XXIV</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chXXIV'>THE PRODIGAL</a></td></tr> - <tr><td class='c1'>XXV</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chXXV'>TO THE FORE</a></td></tr> - <tr><td class='c1'>XXVI</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chXXVI'>THE CHILD</a></td></tr> - <tr><td class='c1'>XXVII</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chXXVII'>TWO HEROES</a></td></tr> - <tr><td class='c1'>XXVIII</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chXXVIII'>AT LAST</a></td></tr> - <tr><td class='c1'>XXIX</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chXXIX'>ON THE PLAINS OF ABRAHAM</a></td></tr> - <tr><td class='c1'>XXX</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chXXX'>THE VANQUISHED</a></td></tr> - <tr><td class='c1'>XXXI</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chXXXI'>WEARY WAITING</a></td></tr> - <tr><td class='c1'>XXXII</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chXXXII'>ON THE BATTLE-FIELD</a></td></tr> - <tr><td class='c1'>XXXIII</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chXXXIII'>A LONG JOURNEY</a></td></tr> - <tr><td class='c1'>XXXIV</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chXXXIV'>CONCLUSION</a></td></tr> - </tbody> - </table> -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - -<h2 id='chI' title='I—ESAU'> - <span style='font-size:1.4em;'>ROGER THE RANGER:</span><br/> - A Story of Border Life among the Indians<br/><br/> - <span style='font-size:1.2em;'>CHAPTER I</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.1em'>ESAU</span> -</h2> - - -<p>“It is of no use, Father Nat; we have gone over -the same ground again and again. I shall never -settle down as a New England farmer, and there are -other reasons why I should go forth from among you. -Mother, you have Marcus; he will stand you in good -stead: he has almost reached man’s estate, and he is -old for his years; he will be a better son to you than -I have ever been. Don’t, Loïs, my darling;” and the -speaker, a tall, handsome man of four- or five-and-twenty, -in the picturesque dress of the New England hunter, -sought to unclasp from round his neck the clinging -hands of a young girl, down whose face the tears were -flowing fast.</p> - -<p>“You are my firstborn, and like Esau you are selling -your birthright, and surely even as he did you will -lose the blessing,” exclaimed his mother, wringing her -hands.</p> - -<p>Martha Langlade was still a handsome woman, not -yet fifty years of age, her brow unwrinkled, no silver -thread visible in the bands of her soft brown hair, -smoothed back under a snowy cap, round which was -tied a broad black ribbon, token of her widowhood.</p> - -<p>“Then even as Esau I shall be a great hunter before -the Lord,” answered her son. “I am not leaving you -comfortless, mother; you have the children and Loïs -and Marcus;” and turning towards a youth standing -beside Martha, he held out his hand to him, saying, -“Marcus, you must take my place.”</p> - -<p>“I am too young, Charles; think better of it and -stay with us,” he replied.</p> - -<p>The young man’s features worked; there was a -moment’s hesitation, then he shook his head, stooped -and kissed again his sister’s upturned face, and, pushing -her gently towards a grey-headed man who had -stood a silent spectator of the scene, said huskily,—</p> - -<p>“Take care of her, take care of them all, Father -Nat.”</p> - -<p>“A man has no right to shift his burdens upon -other men’s shoulders. You will live to rue this day, -Charles Langlade,” was the stern answer.</p> - -<p>“I trust not,” said the young man; “but this I -know, go forth I must! Farewell, mother; farewell, -Father Nat; farewell, all of you. If troubles threaten -you I will come to your aid. Farewell;” and turning -away, he strode rapidly across the greensward in front -of the house, bounded over the paling, and, dashing -down the hill-side, entered the forest, and so disappeared. -As they lost sight of the tall lithe figure, -fully accoutred in his hunting garb, his blanket rolled -round him, his gun and ammunition slung across his -shoulders, Martha and the two little girls who were -clinging to her wept aloud.</p> - -<p>“Don’t, mother dear,” said Loïs, throwing one arm -round Martha’s neck and kissing her.</p> - -<p>“Ah, Loïs, I never thought he’d do it—never! It is -your poor father’s fault, taking the lads amongst the -heathen. I told him no good would come of it,” and -her sobs redoubled.</p> - -<p>Father Nat had kept silence since his last words to -Charles Langlade; he seemed oppressed with a weight -of care. He had never really believed in the oft-threatened -desertion, and now the blow had fallen he -was for the time stunned; but he roused himself, gave -vent to a long deep sigh, then, laying his hand kindly -on Martha’s arm, said,—</p> - -<p>“It’s no use fretting; what is to be will be. Come, -mother, be brave. Don’t ye grieve over much; remember -the little ones. We’ve done all we could to hold -him back. It seems almost as if the Spirit constrained -him. And ye know it is not well to fight against the -will of God.”</p> - -<p>“The will of God!” exclaimed Martha angrily, -wiping her eyes and checking her sobs. “Call it rather -the machinations of the Evil One! How can you dare -say it is the will of God that a son of mine, my -eldest born, should choose to go and live amongst those -cannibals, forsaking his father’s house and taking to -himself a wife from amongst the idolaters? I never -thought to hear you say such a thing, Father Nat! -I’m minded you’ll think differently when your Roger -goes off after him.”</p> - -<p>“My Roger will never do that,” said Father Nat. “I -know the two lads love each other dearly—it’s in the -blood—as I loved your husband, and as it has ever been -from generation to generation, since the first Charles -Langlade saved the life of a Roger Boscowen from the -Red Indians, and the two joining hands established -themselves together on this then waste land.”</p> - -<p>“That proves what I say,” answered Martha doggedly; -“or would you sooner see our homesteads burnt and -ruin threatening us? Have you forgotten the prophecy -of the Indian woman, the first who died under the -shelter of your ancestor’s roof? ‘When Langlade -and Boscowen part, then shall the land be riven.’”</p> - -<p>“Nay, nay,” said Nathaniel uneasily. “The lads will -love each other still, though they be parted; but Roger -will never do as Charles has done—he will never bring -my grey hairs with sorrow to the grave. He is my -only son.”</p> - -<p>“Tut, tut! What is to prevent him, if, as you -say of Charles, it should happen to be the ‘will -of God’?”</p> - -<p>She spoke bitterly—such an unusual thing for -Martha that Father Nat looked at her with surprise, -and Loïs exclaimed,—</p> - -<p>“Oh, mother! surely you do not mean it!” and the -girl’s fair face flushed and her lips quivered.</p> - -<p>“I mean no harm,” said Martha; “but what more -natural? They’ve been like brothers all their lives.”</p> - -<p>“But because Charles has gone astray there is no -need for Roger to do the same,” said Loïs gently. “It -was not kindly spoken, mother, and yet I know you -love Roger dearly.”</p> - -<p>“Ay, surely she does,” said Nat; “who better, save -myself, and his dead mother? Come, Martha woman, -shake hands; we be too old friends to quarrel! Making -my heart sore will not heal yours.”</p> - -<p>“Forgive me, Nat,” said Martha, bursting into tears. -“You are right, my heart is very sore. He was such -a bonnie boy; and to think I’ve lost him, for truly it -is worse than if he were dead!”</p> - -<p>“Nay, nay,” answered Father Nat; “while there is -life there is hope. Cheer up, mother; who knows? he -may come back to us a better and a wiser man.”</p> - -<p>“God grant it!” said Martha tearfully, her eyes -turning wistfully towards the dark forest, which seemed -to have swallowed up her son.</p> - -<p>“You’d best come and have supper with me, -Martha,” said Father Nat. “It’s near upon eight -o’clock,” and he looked at the sky, crimson with the -glow of the setting sun. On one side lay the dark -forest, and far away the long line of hills encompassing -the valley; a broad shining river flashed like a line of -silver through the plain, where nestled the two villages -of East and West Marsh. On the slope of a hill-side -overlooking the whole country stood two houses, built -exactly alike, separated from each other originally by -a light garden fence, which in the course of years had -changed into a thick shrubbery. The “Marshwoods” -they were called, and had been so named by the first -Langlade and Boscowen who had penetrated with a -few followers across the borderland of New England, -far away from human habitations, and had struck root -on this virgin soil. No one had disputed the land -with them, save the Red Indian. Log huts had given -place in time to these two homesteads, in front of one -of which the scene we have just described had taken -place.</p> - -<p>Built of the great trees hewn down in the primeval -forest, neither storm nor tempest had done them -injury. Time had rather beautified than marred their -outward seeming. The shingled roofs were thickly overgrown -with greeny yellow lichen; the woodwork of the -dormer windows, carved balconies, and deep projecting -porches had grown dark with age, thus showing off to -greater advantage the wealth of creepers which clambered -in luxurious profusion from basement to roof. -Great clusters of purple and white clematis mingled -with the crimson flowers of the dark-leaved pomegranate. -Over the porches, stretching up to the -casement windows, as if courting soft maiden hands -to gather them, clusters of white and pink roses vied -with each other in perfume and beauty.</p> - -<p>Both houses were so exactly alike! The same spirit -seemed to have devised, the same hand to have carried -out the work, and yet the founders were of a different -people and a different race.</p> - -<p>The Langlades were descended from a certain -Chevalier de Langlade who had fought in the great wars -under Turenne, and when the armies were disbanded -the then French Minister, Colbert, had bestowed upon -his regiment, as a reward for its services, all the lands -lying on the shores of the great Lake of St. Lawrence—“Canada,” -as the Indians called it; “New France,” the -colonists baptised it, when as far back as 1535 a French -explorer, Jacques Cartier, ascended the St. Lawrence.</p> - -<p>In 1608 the brave and tender-hearted Samuel -Champlain laid the foundations of the City of Quebec, -standing proudly on her rock overlooking land and sea. -France was then virtually mistress of North America, -from Hudson’s Bay to the Gulf of Mexico, by right -of precedence. Therefore these warriors, when they -landed on the shores of the St. Lawrence, felt that -they were not wholly aliens from their beloved country, -for which they had fought and bled. Ceasing to be -soldiers, they became great hunters. Most of them belonged -to the Reformed Church, and though Henry IV. -had renounced his faith to become King of France, he -so far favoured his former co-religionists as to decree -that New France was to welcome the Calvinists, and -that they were to be allowed to worship after their own -fashion; but Cardinal Richelieu, who by the Revocation -of the Edict of Nantes drove the Huguenots out of France, -thus depriving her of the most industrious of her population, -extended his spirit of intolerance even to New -France, and decreed that the Calvinistic worship was -no longer to be tolerated there. The result was that -many influential families left Canada, seeking a new -home. Amongst these was a Charles Langlade, with -the young wife he had but lately wedded. It was a -perfect exodus, for he was much beloved and had -many followers. They went south, past the great -Lake Champlain, into the dense forests of the west. -The Indians swarmed along their path, and daily, -hourly, the exiles were exposed to the danger of the -tomahawks of the savages.</p> - -<p>One memorable day the French Canadians suddenly -came upon a group of Englishmen defending themselves -as best they could against an overwhelming number of -redskins. Charles Langlade fired, at what proved to be -the Indian chief, as with raised arm he was in the act -of bringing his tomahawk down on the head of a tall, -largely built man, whose rugged features and great -strength marked him out from his companions. This -man was Roger Boscowen. Their chief slain, the Indians -fled. Then Charles Langlade and Roger Boscowen, who -had thus seemingly met by chance, joined hands, and -a great and strong affection grew up between them, so -that they cast in their lots together. Roger Boscowen -had but lately landed upon the shores of New England; -he too had left his Lincolnshire fens, with other well-to-do, -God-fearing yeomen, for conscience’ sake, to find -a country where they might glorify God. They were -not “broken men,”—adventurers or criminals driven -from their fatherland by earthly want,—but men who -were constrained by their fear of God and their zeal -for godly worship.</p> - -<p>They had no dreams of gold-fields, but were resolute -and industrious, quiet and stern, recognising from the -first that nothing was to be expected from the land but -by labour. So the representatives of the two races -united, and marched onward together along the wavy -line of the New England border, until they reached -a spot which seemed to possess all the most essential -qualifications for a new colony. Forest land, deep hills -and dales, pastures sloping down to a broad shining -river which watered all the land, lay stretched out before -them; and here they pitched their tents, and in time -multiplied and prospered, upholding from generation -to generation the characteristics of their Puritan and -Huguenot forefathers—namely, piety and simplicity of -life. The “Marshes” had become one of the largest -and most prosperous of the border settlements.</p> - -<p>Thus it was that the Langlades and Boscowens were -alike proud of their descent, and strove ever to prove -themselves worthy in all things of those who had gone -before and were called “Fathers of the land.”</p> - -<p>That an eldest son should have gone astray and have -forsaken his ancestral home was therefore a bitter -sorrow. Alpha and Omega had been added to the name -of Marshwood to distinguish the homesteads. The -Langlades owned Alpha, the Boscowens Omega. As -son succeeded father the tie which bound the heads of -the two houses together was never once broken; no -word of dissension ever arose between them. Younger -sons and daughters went forth into the busy world; -some were lost sight of, others returned from time to -time with a curious longing to see once more the home -of their race, and were made welcome and treated -hospitably; but, up to the present time, the eldest son -of either branch had never deserted his post.</p> - -<p>The present generation was less fortunate in their -domestic relations than their predecessors. Nathaniel -Boscowen lost his wife when his only son Roger was -still a child, and Louis Langlade died in the prime -of life from an accident he met with while hunting. -With his dying breath he commended his wife and -children to the care of his life-long companion and -friend Nathaniel, who became forthwith “Father -Nat,” not only in the settlement, but amongst the -Indians, who came to barter the skins of wild beasts -for English goods. He was still a man in the prime -of life, and he strove nobly to fulfil his charge; but -Louis Langlade himself had early inspired his son -and Roger with a love for hunting and the wild -Indian life, and after a time Nat found it impossible -to exercise any control over Charles. He would disappear -for days together, and at last announced his -intention of dwelling entirely with the Indians and -taking a wife from amongst them.</p> - -<p>Up to the very last no one believed he would really -carry out the threat, and when he did the blow, as we -have seen, fell heavily upon them all.</p> - -<p>In answer to Father Nat’s invitation to supper, -Martha said,—</p> - -<p>“Yes, I shall be glad to come; at least I shall not -see his empty chair at my own table. Come, children; -we will go and see after the men’s supper, and then -betake ourselves to Omega Marsh.”</p> - -<p>Marcus followed his mother, and so Nathaniel and -Loïs were left standing alone in the porch. For a time -they both kept silence; suddenly Father Nat asked,—</p> - -<p>“Do you know where Roger is, Loïs? He has been -absent since dawn.”</p> - -<p>“No, I do not,” she answered. “But he will come -home; have no fear, Father Nat,” and she turned her -young face towards him, bright, notwithstanding the -shadow resting on lips and brow. She was barely -eighteen, tall and slim, but with those delicately -rounded limbs which denote perfect health and -strength; her features were regular, her large grey -eyes fringed with long lashes, the tips of which curling -up caught the sunlight, even as did the rich golden -hair which, waving back behind the small ears, fell -in two long thick plaits below her waist. She, like -her mother, wore a black gown, a large white bibbed -apron, and sleeves turned back to the elbow, with -facings of linen, scarcely whiter than the rounded -arms thus exposed to view.</p> - -<p>“I believe he will,” said Father Nat, in answer to -her assertion; “but he will never be content, never -be satisfied again.”</p> - -<p>“We will trust he may, in time,” answered Loïs. -“Why look ahead, dear Father Nat?”</p> - -<p>“You are right, lass. ‘Sufficient unto the day.’ -There’s the gong for supper; come, the mother will -follow.”</p> - -<p>Even as he spoke Martha and her children joined -them, and together they passed through the wicket -gate which alone separated the two gardens.</p> - -<p>The meal was, according to the good old custom, -taken in common, masters and servants sitting at the -same board. When the master entered the great -kitchen, some ten or twelve men and women employed -on the home farm were standing about in groups -awaiting Nat’s appearance, and naturally discussing -the great event of the day. Doffing his broad -wideawake, he bade them “Good-evening,” as did -also Martha and her children. The salutation was -heartily returned, and then he took his place at the -head of the long table, upon which great joints of cold -viands and huge pasties were already exciting the -appetites of those about to partake thereof. When -they were all gathered round the board, Father Nat -raised his hand to enforce silence, and in a solemn -voice called upon God to bless the fruits of the earth. -When he had finished his prayer, before uttering the -usual “Amen” he paused; evidently some strong -emotion checked his power of speech, but all present -felt he had something more to say, and waited -respectfully.</p> - -<p>“My friends,” he said at last, with a slight quiver -in his manly voice, “you all know that one we love -has gone out from amongst us, to our great sorrow. I -commend him to your prayers. May the God of his -fathers watch over him, and guide his footsteps in the -right way. Amen.”</p> - -<p>“Amen,” repeated all present, and then they seated -themselves and the meal began, but not gaily as usual, -the cloud which rested on the master overshadowing -them all.</p> - - - - -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - -<h2 id='chII' title='II—PARTED'> - <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER II</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.1em'>PARTED</span> -</h2> - - -<p>The sun was setting, and the rays of crimson light -tinged the topmost branches of the forest trees, -but scarcely could be said to penetrate through the -closely interlaced branches. The long grass and thick -undergrowth made walking difficult, whilst the tightly -entwined boughs of the trees formed a thick, leafy -canopy, perfectly impenetrable, added to which parasitic -plants twined up the huge trunks in luxuriant -wildness.</p> - -<p>After he had, so to speak, fled from his home -and his people, Charles Langlade walked straight -before him through the forest. He was a handsome -man, his mouth firm set, his nose rather large, and his -chin prominent, cleft in the middle. His eyes were -grey, like those of his sister Loïs, and his eyebrows -marked. He wore, what was unusual among the hunters, -his hair rather long. Altogether his appearance was -remarkable; there was something about him which -reminded one of the heroes of old, knights and -crusaders. Suddenly he stopped, and passed his hand -across his brow as if trying to remember.</p> - -<p>“It has unnerved me,” he said aloud. “I shall lose -my way if I don’t take care.”</p> - -<p>As he spoke he stretched out his hand, and, passing -it lightly over the trunk of the nearest tree, knew -instantly by the feel of the bark the direction he was -in, whether north or south, east or west. Satisfied, he -strode forward, stopping from time to time to make -sure he was on the right track.</p> - -<p>This following a trail is perfectly simple to the -Indian and the Canadian hunter. They read every -mark and sign in the wood as clearly as if they were -written; the moss, the lichen, tell their tale. No -foot-print, however light, can escape their notice; they -know whether it be a white or red man’s foot, whether -it be of to-day or yesterday.</p> - -<p>It was thus with Charles Langlade. He walked -unhesitatingly through the darkness, until suddenly -the forest came to an end, and he found himself -standing on an elevated plain overgrown with a sort -of heather, sloping gradually down to a river which -flowed at its base. The moon had risen and was shining -with a clear light over the country, making visible the -long line of distant hills and the silvery stream, running -low down through the land. He waited a few seconds -considering; then he gave a long, low whistle. Immediately -he was answered in the same way, and at some -little distance a figure rose from out of a clump of -bushes and advanced quickly towards him.</p> - -<p>The individual was a man taller even than Charles, -and in every way of larger build, his clothes being of -the same fashion. The two men clasped hands when -they met, and Charles said,—</p> - -<p>“I’ve kept you waiting, old fellow.”</p> - -<p>“You’ve had a bad time of it, I expect,” said Roger -Boscowen. “Is it really over, and for good?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, indeed,” answered Charles, “and none too -soon. I nearly gave in when Loïs put her arms round -my neck and entreated me to remain. I should not -care to go through that ordeal every day,” and he -heaved a sigh. Even whilst speaking they had both -unfastened the skins and blankets they carried, and, -throwing them on the ground, lay down full length -and rolled themselves in them.</p> - -<p>“The chiefs will not be here till dawn,” said Charles; -“we shall have a long last night together, friend.”</p> - -<p>“Not long enough for all we have to say to each -other,” answered Roger sadly.</p> - -<p>Charles Langlade turned his face towards him and -stretched out his hand; Roger laid his in it, and with -only the pale light of the moon and stars shining -down upon them, they looked steadily into each other’s -eyes. Two finer specimens of early manhood it would -have been difficult to find; they both came of races -who for generations had lived sober, healthy lives, -fearing God, and, as far as in them lay, keeping His -commandments.</p> - -<p>Living hard lives, and frequently sleeping out in -the open air, had made these two young men vigorous -and powerful beyond even what might have been -expected.</p> - -<p>After a somewhat lengthened silence, Charles said -gently,—</p> - -<p>“We shall remain friends, Roger, for ever and for -ever; my going will make no difference between -<i>us</i>?”</p> - -<p>“How can you imagine that should be possible?” -answered Roger sombrely. “You are going where I -neither can nor will follow you. When the sun rises -to-morrow morning we shall bid each other farewell; -you will go your way, I shall go mine, and in all -probability we shall not meet again, except it be as -enemies in the fray.”</p> - -<p>“Let us hope not that,” answered Charles, with a -touch of sadness in his voice; “and yet it is this -pending conflict which must break out before long -which has in a great measure constrained me to -take my present step. I cannot bear arms against -France; I hold they have the right of precedence -in Canada.”</p> - -<p>“What is that to you ?” said Roger harshly. “You -have been born under British rule; if need be, it is -your duty to fight for England, to protect your -home against the invader. That is all we ask you -to do.”</p> - -<p>Charles Langlade shook his head.</p> - -<p>“You know as well as I do, Roger, that before long -there will be a great and mighty struggle between -France and England; it is no fault of mine, but I -honestly tell you that all my instincts, all my feelings, -are with the Canadians. I believe they will defend the -colony to their very uttermost; and if only France send -them help, they will probably be successful.”</p> - -<p>“Why then do you not join the Canadians -openly, instead of allying yourself to the Indians -who are devoted to the French interests?” said -Roger.</p> - -<p>“Because I will not give up my liberty,” answered -Charles. “By remaining with the Indians, and becoming -probably in time a chief amongst them, I am free. -I trust to attain great influence in their councils, and -perhaps prevent much cruelty. If I offered myself for -service to the present Government of Canada, I should -have to wink at much of which I disapprove. Peculation -and robbery are the order of the day. Vaudreuil is a -fool, and Bigot, his Controller of Finance, a knave. No, -thank you; I prefer my savage chiefs to such civilised -rascals. You know I went to both Quebec and Montreal -to see for myself how matters stood, and I came away -disgusted. If France loses Canada, it will be through -the incapacity of the men she has placed at the -helm.”</p> - -<p>“And you will marry Ominipeg’s daughter?” said -Roger.</p> - -<p>“Yes, such is my intention,” answered Charles. -“The Indian maiden is gentle and possessed of all -good instincts, and she loves me. She will become a -Christian, and I shall wed her. She knows no will but -mine; surely she will make me happier than any other -girl, who might worry me with her humours. I know -all you have to say against it—the fate of the children -who may be born to me; but that is a matter for after -consideration.”</p> - -<p>“I have done,” said Roger, and he threw himself -back on the ground with a gesture of despair.</p> - -<p>“Nay, but, Roger, we shall not be wholly parted; -you will come out to my wigwam in the hunting -season, and we shall be together. You are no stranger -to the tribe I am about to join; you will be always -welcome.”</p> - -<p>“Not if war break out and we are on opposite sides,” -said Roger.</p> - -<p>“Listen,” said Charles; “I have something to tell -you, which I will confide only to you,” and drawing -closer still he whispered into Roger’s ear, and for a -time they conversed in low voices together.</p> - -<p>“Wrong can never be right,” said the latter at last. -“The Indians are a treacherous race. If you offend -them, mark my word, they will be revenged. Now let -us sleep; it will soon be morning;” and side by side, -with their hands clasped in each other’s, as they were -wont to lie when boys, they fell asleep.</p> - -<p>The day was just dawning, and the soft hazy light -of early morn was creeping over the land, when suddenly -and simultaneously they awoke. They cast one -questioning look at each other, and sprang to their -feet.</p> - -<p>Paddling slowly down the river which ran below were -some fifty canoes, filled with Indians in their most -gorgeous array, uttering, as they moved slowly on, loud -cries of delight, and gesticulating wildly.</p> - -<p>“They have come for me,” said Charles, his voice -quivering with the multitude of his emotions.</p> - -<p>Do we ever take a decisive step in life without a -momentary hesitation—a backward glance of regret at -the past we are leaving behind, and an instinctive fear -of the unknown future?</p> - -<p>Roger saw it, and a wild hope flashed through his -heart. “There is yet time to hold back!” he said, in -a low, eager voice, laying his hand on his friend’s arm, -as if to detain him.</p> - -<p>“Nay,” answered Charles, throwing back his head. -“I have passed my word and I will not now draw back. -Farewell.” He wrung Roger’s hand; then, drawing -himself up to his full height, he repeated the Indians’ -cry, and, bounding down the slope, stood at the river’s -edge in full view of the canoes, which stopped paddling, -the Indians in them showing signs of satisfaction at the -sight of their new ally.</p> - -<p>Two canoes came close up to the bank. In the first -stood a chief, more gorgeously arrayed than his fellows, -with ceremonial paint, scalp locks, eagle plumes, and -armed with steel hatchet and stone war-club. He -stretched out his hand to Charles, who immediately -entered his canoe, renewed shouts from the Indians -making him welcome.</p> - -<p>And Roger, standing where his friend had left him, -with his arms folded, saw Charles, as he stood beside -the chief, look up at him and wave his cap in token of -farewell, as his frail bark, taking the lead, was paddled -down the stream, the others following in compact order.</p> - -<p>Roger never moved until the last of the crews -had disappeared and silence had once more fallen on -the land; then he threw himself down on the spot -where they had passed the night together, and, strong, -brave man though he was, wept bitterly for the friend -who had departed from him.</p> - - - - -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - -<h2 id='chIII' title='III—BAD NEWS'> - <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER III</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.1em'>BAD NEWS</span> -</h2> - - -<p>“Well, Loïs, I think it’s pretty nearly time Roger -was back amongst us; he’s been gone over two -months,” said Father Nat, standing beside Loïs, as she -sat on the broad window-seat, a large basket of household -linen beside her, which she was carefully sorting -and arranging. She and her mother managed Father -Nat’s household matters as well as their own, whilst -he looked after the outdoor work of the two farms. -Virtually they really formed but one community: all -their interests were in common; but they maintained -their separate establishments. Nokomis, a coloured -woman, ruled in the kitchen of Omega Marsh, and in -her department suffered no interference; but the linen -was Loïs’ care: twice every week she spent the whole -day putting it in order. When Father Nat made the -above remark, she paused in what she was doing and -said,—</p> - -<p>“Two months, Father Nat! It is ten weeks since -he started for Oswega.”</p> - -<p>“Ten weeks, is it?” answered Nat. “He ought to -be back, Loïs;” and turning away from her, he looked -steadily out of the window.</p> - -<p>“Yes, he ought,” she answered; “I understood he -had left Oswega a month ago?”</p> - -<p>“So he did,” answered Nat; “he went with some -other traders to Miamis, you know—the village of Old -Britain.”</p> - -<p>“He’s safe there,” said Loïs. “I thought you always -said Old Britain was a fast friend of the English?”</p> - -<p>“So he is, but the French don’t half like it; they are -always trying to get him on their side. But what with -presents and selling our goods dirt cheap, we’ve managed -somehow to keep him and his tribe satisfied; but I -expect every day to hear the French have either bought -him over or destroyed and plundered the village.”</p> - -<p>“I believe you’ve heard something already,” said -Loïs, and she went and stood beside him. “What is it, -Father Nat?” she asked anxiously.</p> - -<p>He did not answer immediately. At last, in a -hurried voice, he said,—</p> - -<p>“There is a rumour, but it may be false. I don’t -want to give heed to it.”</p> - -<p>“What is it?” repeated Loïs. “Tell me quickly, -Father Nat,” and in her excitement she laid her hand -on his arm.</p> - -<p>“The news has come,” said Nathaniel slowly, “that -a fleet of canoes manned by two hundred and fifty -Ottawa and Ogibwa warriors have paddled down the -lakes from Green Bay and so up the Maumee, and -when last heard of they were marching through the -forests against the Miamis.</p> - -<p>“This news is three weeks old. If it be true, they -will have surprised Old Britain and made short work -of him, for you know most of the men of the tribe are -away at this time for the summer hunting; only the -old men, squaws, and children remain in the village. -Roger, as I said, was going there with other traders; it -strikes me if all had gone well he would have been -home by this time.”</p> - -<p>“Do you know anything else?” asked Loïs, and the -very way in which she put the question was proof that -she expected something more.</p> - -<p>Nathaniel hesitated.</p> - -<p>“Hush, do not say it,” she said, throwing back her -head, whilst tears filled her eyes. “Charles was at -Green Bay when last we heard of him,” and she wrung -her hands.</p> - -<p>“It is of no use, Loïs; we must make up our minds -to it,” said Father Nat with a sigh. “He has passed -away from us; he is gone over to the enemy, and in -the war which is threatening us his hand will be against -his own home and against his own people. I have heard -that in the two years he has dwelt amongst them he has -become a great man with the Indians; and the French -hold him also in much esteem, partly because of his -influence with the tribes, partly on account of his -knowledge of Indian warfare and his forest lore. It -is certain that an expedition did start from Green Bay -commanded by a white man; they stopped at the fort -at Detroit; but whether the white man was Charles, -and whether they pushed on as far as Old Britain’s, we -do not know.”</p> - -<p>Loïs had listened in silence, with bowed head. -Suddenly she looked up, a light in her eyes.</p> - -<p>“Father,” she said, “Charles would defend Roger -with his own life; he would never suffer any one to -touch a hair of his head.”</p> - -<p>“If he happened to come across him! But with -two hundred devils rushing into a half-deserted village, -ten chances to one they would never meet; they would -have scalped him before Charles came up. Besides, he -could not restrain them. I know too well what Indians -are like when they have once tasted blood. And to -think that a Langlade should consort with such devils! -There is little doubt, Loïs, if Old Britain has been -attacked, and Roger happened to be there, as I am -pretty sure he was, I shall never see my son again,—and -he is my only son!”</p> - -<p>“Father, I am here.”</p> - -<p>Nathaniel and Loïs turned sharply round, the latter -with a faint cry, and there, leaning against the wall close -by the door, stood Roger. He could move no farther. -His clothes were torn almost to rags, one arm was in -a sling, his head was bandaged, his face colourless; but -worse than all was the look of despair in his eyes. -Loïs crossed the room rapidly, and, pushing a chair -towards him, said,—</p> - -<p>“Sit down, Roger.”</p> - -<p>Mechanically he obeyed, and from his parched lips -came in a hard guttural voice the one word, “Water.”</p> - -<p>Loïs hastened away, and Nathaniel, laying his hand -on his son’s shoulder, said with ill-disguised emotion,—</p> - -<p>“Thank God you’re back, lad; but you’ve had a hard -time of it.”</p> - -<p>Roger made no answer; he merely bowed his head, -and, taking from Loïs the bowl she now offered him, -drained it at one draught.</p> - -<p>“Fetch your mother,” said Nat, and once more the -girl disappeared. “Now, Roger, cheer up, lad,” he -continued. “When Martha has looked at your wounds, -go straight away upstairs and sleep it off. Don’t try -to tell us anything at present. I guess pretty well -what has happened. It’s been rough work; but you’ve -escaped with your life, and that’s more than I expected. -Will you eat something?”</p> - -<p>Roger shook his head, and rising to his feet he -almost wailed forth,—</p> - -<p>“He was my friend—my own familiar friend!”</p> - -<p>It was terrible to see the agony in his face. Physical -pain is as nothing compared with the wrench of the -heart’s strings. Roger had gone away a young man; -he came back with heavy lines across his brow, and a -drawn, hard look about his mouth.</p> - -<p>Martha now came in, followed by Loïs.</p> - -<p>“There, don’t ye fret, Roger,” she said; “the thing’s -done, and there’s no mending of it. Sit ye down, and -let me see what ails your head and arm. I’d like to -think it were none of his doing?”</p> - -<p>Martha uttered the last words wistfully, almost -questioningly; but Roger made no answer, and a deep -sigh escaped her as she proceeded to unbandage his -head. He was as docile as a little child under her hands.</p> - -<p>“Get plenty of water and linen, Loïs, and be quick -about it,” said Martha sharply; “and you, Nat, just -hand me those scissors.” As they both turned away -to obey her she bent over Roger, and whispered in a -quivering voice, “It can’t hurt you as it hurts me, -his mother.”</p> - -<p>“He saved my life,” said Roger.</p> - -<p>“Thank God for that,” answered Martha; and turning -round, she added, “Do you hear, Father Nat? My -poor boy saved Roger’s life,” and great tears ran down -her cheeks.</p> - -<p>“I said he would!” came from Loïs, who returned -with basin and ewer just as her mother uttered the -last words.</p> - -<p>“But I’d rather have died than have seen him as -he now is,” said Roger.</p> - -<p>“Nay, lad,” returned Nat; “your dying would not -have given him back to us: it would but have made -our hearts the sorer. Live to prove yourself the better -man. Now be quick, Martha; the sooner he’s in bed -the better.”</p> - -<p>The wound on Roger’s head was both deep and painful; -it had been caused by a blow from a steel hatchet—how -it had not killed him was the marvel. His arm had a -deep flesh wound. But what ailed him most was the -great moral depression. He had evidently received a -shock, from which he had not been able as yet to -recover. Loïs as she helped her mother watched him -closely, but she kept silent, knowing the sorrow was -still too fresh to allow of comfort. When the dressing -was over and he had drunk another bowl of fresh -water, he rose, saying,—</p> - -<p>“I will follow your advice, father, and go to bed. -Call me at suppertime.”</p> - -<p>And without uttering another word, looking neither to -the right hand nor to the left, he quitted the kitchen. -They heard him go slowly up the stairs, and, crossing the -floor of the room overhead, fall heavily upon his bed.</p> - -<p>Father Nat gave a deep groan, and Martha, sinking -on a settle, threw her apron over her head and sobbed -bitterly.</p> - -<p>Loïs, kneeling down beside her mother, laid her -head on her shoulder. No one spoke; they were -realising for the first time how great the barrier must -needs be which had arisen between them and Charles -Langlade, the Indian chief.</p> - -<p>“I’d sooner have seen him lying dead before me,” -moaned Martha.</p> - -<p>“Nay, nay, Martha, say not so; life is life—there is -no hope in the grave! Remember David, who ‘fasted -and wept while the child was yet alive’ in the hope -that ‘God might be gracious and that the child might -live, but after he was dead he ceased all outward signs -of mourning and bowed his head and worshipped God.’ -Is it nothing that we can still pray the Father to bring -our dear one home to us again?”</p> - -<p>Father Nat’s voice was full of deep emotion, and -taking up his hat he too went forth.</p> - - - - -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - -<h2 id='chIV' title='IV—"MY OWN FAMILIAR FRIEND!"'> - <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER IV</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.1em'>“MY OWN FAMILIAR FRIEND!”</span> -</h2> - - -<p>Supper was over; the men and women employed -about the house and home farm had dispersed. -Father Nat sat in his large wooden armchair within -the great fireplace, his pipe between his teeth; but it -had gone out, and in his preoccupation he had not -noticed the fact. Opposite him sat Martha Langlade -knitting, and the click of her needles was heard above -the murmuring voices of the two younger girls, who -were busy conning over their lessons for the morrow. -In marked distinction to the Canadians, and French -colonies, education was held in high esteem, and indeed -enforced, in the New England states. Whenever a -settlement mustered a sufficiently large population to -be able to support a minister, there, beside the church -or chapel, a schoolhouse was sure to spring up, the -functions of minister and schoolmaster being generally -united in the same person. In the broad window-seat -Loïs was telling Marcus the particulars of Roger’s -return. The young man was now nearly twenty. -Physically he resembled his brother, but in character -he was the very opposite. Warfare was hateful to him; -had he lived in quiet times he would have been a -student. John Cleveland, the minister of the Marshes, -had earnestly desired that he should be brought up to -the ministry; but when his elder brother left them, -Marcus knew that his place was at home, that his -mother and sisters needed him, and quietly, without -a murmur, he had put his own wishes on one side, and -applied himself to the management of the farm. He -was not brilliant like either Roger or Charles, but he -was doggedly industrious, and Father Nat seldom had -reason to complain. He was also a good son, and -Martha, though she often grumbled at what she termed -his slowness, knew it well; but he was not her firstborn, -and he was fully aware that, labour as he might, he -never succeeded in filling the vacant place in his -mother’s heart; he never could replace the eldest son -after whom she yearned! Loïs and he were great -friends; they had always been so, trusting and supporting -each other in all things.</p> - -<p>“He’s slept over eight hours,” said Father Nat at -last.</p> - -<p>Loïs turned round, listened for a moment, then -said,—</p> - -<p>“He’s moving now; he’ll surely be wanting some food. -I’ll go and see to it;” and rising she went into the -outer kitchen, listening all the time for his step on the -stairs as she and Nokomis prepared the supper. At -last it came, not firm and quick as usual, but slow and -heavy, as if the soul of the man were also heavy within -him.</p> - -<p>“Give me the scones, Nokomis,” said Loïs; and, -taking the dish, she entered the front kitchen by one -door as Roger came in by the other.</p> - -<p>“You’ve had a good sleep and must need your -supper,” she said with a smile. “Nokomis has kept -some scones hot for you.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you,” he answered, and then lifting his eyes -he looked round the room. Marcus held out his -hand.</p> - -<p>“I’m glad you’re back, Roger,” he said, “but -desperately sorry for the cause which kept you -away.”</p> - -<p>“I knew you would be,” answered Roger, as he -seated himself at the table, where one of the younger -girls had hastened to spread a snowy cloth, upon which -Loïs placed the food.</p> - -<p>“Are your wounds easier, Roger?” asked Martha.</p> - -<p>“I scarcely feel my arm, but my head aches badly,” -he answered.</p> - -<p>“You want food; you’ll be better after supper,” said -his father.</p> - -<p>“Maybe,” answered Roger carelessly, and he took -up his knife and fork and began mechanically to eat -the food Loïs put upon his plate. But after the first -few mouthfuls, nature asserted her rights. He was -young and strong, had fasted all that day, and the -fever of his wounds having left him, his appetite -returned, and Loïs had the satisfaction of seeing the -food disappear.</p> - -<p>With infinite tact she told him of little events which -had taken place in the settlement during his absence. -Father Nat, Marcus, and the others joined in, so that -the conversation became general. Roger kept silence, -but he was evidently listening. Suddenly the door -opened, and John Cleveland, the minister, entered. He -and Nathaniel had been friends ever since he had been -elected minister of the Marsh villages. The young -Langlades and Boscowens had had no other teacher; -he had married a Boscowen, a cousin of the present -head of the house, and was therefore one of the -family.</p> - -<p>Every evening, summer and winter alike, he smoked -his pipe in the chimney corner of Omega Marsh. -Roger Boscowen and Charles Langlade had been great -favourites with him, and both the young men returned -his affection. He had done his best to prevent the -latter taking the fatal step which had plunged them all -into sorrow; failing to do so, he had grieved for him -almost as bitterly as Nat had done.</p> - -<p>Whilst Roger was sleeping, his father had gone over -to the minister’s house and told him of the boys’ -return.</p> - -<p>“But I don’t like the look in his eyes,” he -had said; “the meeting with Charles, under present -circumstances, has unhinged him terribly. It’s not -the fighting, nor the wounds; it’s the moral shock. I -don’t think he ever really realised the change before. -You’ll see what you think of him when you come up -to-night.”</p> - -<p>Entering the kitchen, John Cleveland went straight -up to Roger, and laying his hand on his shoulder said -earnestly,—</p> - -<p>“Thank God you’re home again! Your father and -I have been in trouble about you, Roger. You’ve had a -hard time of it, lad. But it’s well, perhaps, you should -look things straight in the face; you know now for -certain that he we loved so well is lost to us, unless -God in His great goodness vouchsafes to bring him -home. In the meantime you are our hope and stay, -Roger. Your name is in every mouth throughout the -towns and villages of New England, as the man most -capable of defending us against the French and Indians. -The vote has been given; you are to be elected Captain -of the Rangers, because of your superior knowledge in -woodcraft. Within the last few days the story of Old -Britain’s massacre has spread terror everywhere. There -are those who still remember the massacre of Haverhill, -when their minister was beaten to death and the -men, women, and children murdered in cold blood, -upwards of forty years ago. I am a man of peace and -I preach peace; but if the heathen assail us, we must -arise and defend ourselves: we cannot see our wives -and children massacred or led captives before our eyes. -Therefore I say to you, Roger Boscowen, Arise and -gird on your sword, for it is a righteous cause you are -called upon to defend. All the young men of New -England and along the border are prepared to obey -you as their leader, and to aid you in the defence of -our hearths and homes. Let not your heart faint -within you,” he continued kindly, lowering his voice, -“because he you loved has gone over to the enemy. -Jonathan and David fought not in the same camp, -yet they loved each other to the end. If you cannot -tear out the brotherly affection which has grown with -your growth and has been so sweet to you, make up -your mind to sacrifice it at the call of duty.”</p> - -<p>He ceased, and there was a moment’s silence; then -Roger arose, and standing in the midst of them -said,—</p> - -<p>“You are right, Mr. Cleveland, and I thank you for -putting into words the struggle which has been going -on within me. But it is over. From henceforth he -and I are strangers one to another.”</p> - -<p>He paused, drew a long breath, and then, as if he -had cast something far away from him, crossed over to -where his father sat, and, taking the seat beside him, -said,—</p> - -<p>“Now, if you will let me, I will tell you all that has -happened since I left home: it is a long and painful -story.”</p> - -<p>In a few minutes all those present had gathered -round him. Martha laid her knitting down and folded -her hands to listen. It was of her son, her firstborn, -she was about to hear, and it seemed to her as if her -heart were like to break.</p> - -<p>When they were all settled Roger began. “I found -upon reaching Oswega that trade was far from flourishing. -The French are growing very aggressive, and are daily -becoming better friends with the Indians; they are -liberal with both presents and promises, whereas we are -neither; indeed, the Indians accuse us of not keeping -faith with them. I and a dozen other traders decided -therefore to go and see what we could do with Old -Britain and the Miamis. It was the end of May when -we reached the village. Most of the Indians were away -on their summer hunt; but Old Britain received us well, -and persuaded us to remain till some of the tribe should -return. Thinking this might prove advantageous, as -they were sure to bring fresh skins with them, we -agreed to do so. Everything went well for the first -fortnight; then we heard rumours of raids farther up -the country, and I saw Old Britain was anxious. Once -or twice he sent men out as scouts; but they came -back saying they had seen no enemy, that the land -was quiet; so, though he took every precaution against -being surprised, he was satisfied there was no immediate -danger to fear. He was not made aware by any sign -that on the night of June 20th the enemy slept quietly -in the near forest. They had come down the lakes in -a fleet of canoes, two hundred and fifty picked warriors of -the Ottawa and Ogibwa tribes. Silently, as only Indians -can march, they made their way through the forest. -At daybreak we were aroused by the shrill cry we all -know so well, and then they were upon us, spreading -terror through the village. The rifle rang out, the cry -of the dying arose. Old Britain and his Indians fought -bravely; but of course from the first it was hopeless—numbers -were against them. They were slain or taken -prisoners every one of them: it was a hideous spectacle. -We traders had taken refuge in the warehouse, where -till five in the afternoon we defended ourselves against -fearful odds. Early in the day I had seen and recognised -their chief. No need for me to tell you who he -was! Three of our men managed to get out, hoping -to reach the forest and escape: they failed, and were -massacred before our eyes. Then the Indians swarmed -over the palisades into the warehouse, and we knew that -our last hour had come; but foremost, trying to hold -them in check, came their chief. When he saw me he -sprang wildly forward, covering me with his own body. -‘For God’s sake surrender!’ he said. ‘Never!’ I -answered, and fired over his head. An Indian fell; it -was a signal for all the others to rush on. <i>He</i> turned -upon me. I never shall forget the look in his face. I -saw the glittering steel in his hand as he threw the -whole weight of his body upon me and struck me -down.</p> - -<p>“When I recovered consciousness I found myself in -a log hut in the middle of the forest, <i>he</i> standing -over me bathing my head.</p> - -<p>“‘I couldn’t help it, old fellow,’ he said. ‘It was the -only way of saving your life.’”</p> - -<p>Roger paused. His voice failed him, so deep was -his emotion; but when he spoke again he had mastered -himself.</p> - -<p>“I stayed in that hut a whole week unable to move; -he kept guard over me and nursed me night and -day. At the end of that time I was fit to travel. He -brought me on my way until I was out of danger; then -we parted. Ask me not what we said one to the other -during those days and nights we were alone together; -from henceforth we have agreed to strive our very -uttermost never to meet again, never to look into each -other’s faces. We are dead to one another. He told -me that not for worlds would he again go through -the agony he endured when he felled me to the earth, -and stood over my body to prevent his Indians scalping -me. Was I dead or alive? Had the curse of Cain -descended upon him? He had conquered me; I was -his captive,—that was all he knew, and by that right -he saved me from the Indians. Not till night had -fallen and they were deep in their disgusting orgies -did he and John Stone, the lad who followed him as -his servant, venture to do more than thrust me into an -outhouse, lock the door, and threaten vengeance upon -any one who should molest me. I was his prize and -he was chief! They dared not disobey. During the -night he and John carried me to a deserted hut in the -forest, where I was comparatively safe. It is a week -since we parted company. I have travelled slowly, -from weakness, and because I was only able to carry -a small amount of food. More than once I thought I -must lie down and die after he left me.”</p> - -<p>Roger stopped short. “That is all,” he said, looking -round. The womenkind were weeping, the men’s faces -were stern. Then John Cleveland stood up.</p> - -<p>“Let us pray,” he said; and, after the fashion -of the old Puritans, they all arose and stood with -clasped hands and bowed heads whilst the minister -prayed.</p> - -<p>“O Lord, we thank Thee for Thy great mercy in -delivering our dear brother from the jaws of the lion -and bringing him back amongst us. In Thy great -wisdom Thou hast done this thing, that he may be as -Moses of old, a deliverer of Thy people. Strengthen -him, O Lord; enlighten him, that he may overcome -in Thy might the heathen and the oppressor. Give -us peace, O Lord, we pray Thee; but if because -of the wickedness in the land war cometh upon us, -then give us the victory. Teach Thou ‘our hands to -war’ that we may glorify Thy Name, and that the -strange nations may do likewise. And over this household -we pray Thee stretch forth Thine hand. Be -merciful to the widow and fatherless in their affliction, -and in Thy good time bring back the wandering sheep -into the fold. Enable us to cast out all affections -which tend not to Thy glory, and to worship Thee -alone, the only true God, for Thy Son Jesus Christ’s -sake. Amen.”</p> - -<p>“Amen,” answered the little congregation.</p> - -<p>“Peace be with you all,” said the minister, stretching -forth his hand.</p> - -<p>And so, without further speech, but with silent hand-clasping, -they parted for the night. When all were -gone, and Father Nat and Roger stood alone on the -hearth, the former said,—</p> - -<p>“It will be war, Roger.”</p> - -<p>“Ay, father; it will be a terrible war,” he -answered. “Brother against brother. How shall I -endure?”</p> - -<p>“The Lord’s will be done. He will surely give you -strength. Now let us go to rest, my son,” said the -elder man; and, putting out the lights, father and -son went up the broad oak staircase together, the -summer moon shining in through the casement window -lighting their darkness. But their hearts were heavy -within them.</p> - - - - -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - -<h2 id='chV' title='V—A HERO'> - <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER V</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.1em'>A HERO</span> -</h2> - - -<p>“Grandmother, where is Canada?” and a small -dark girl of about sixteen years of age leant, as -she asked the question, over the back of a garden chair, -in which sat an old lady of nearly seventy years of age.</p> - -<p>The scene was the terrace of the Château of Candiac -in Languedoc. It was evening, and the crimson light -of the setting sun illumined the whole valley, and was -reflected in the numerous windows of the Castle, until -the ancient fortress seemed almost on fire. It was the -setting of a Southern sun, which had poured down the -whole livelong day, scorching up the grass and driving -men and beasts to seek refuge in sheltered spots; no -breath of air stirred the trees, no animal had even yet -ventured abroad. A dead silence still reigned over the -landscape, as if exhausted nature were waiting patiently -for the soft and refreshing night dews to restore her -energies.</p> - -<p>“Canada, Mercèdes, is at the other end of the world, -my child,” answered Madame de St. Verin. “And I -greatly fear if your father goes thither he will never -return again. It is a land of savages, where they eat -one another;” and her eyes filled with tears, and the -white bejewelled hands resting on her lap were clasped -together with nervous energy.</p> - -<p>“Nay, madame,” said a younger lady, turning round, -for she had been gazing earnestly along the white road -which ran through the valley, “why terrify the children? -If their father accepts this post of danger and of honour, -surely it is more for their sakes than his own! We are -noble, but we are poor, and there are many children to -establish in the world—a serious matter as times go.”</p> - -<p>“I know, my daughter,” said Madame de St. Verin -gently; “but if you have six sons and daughters, I have -only one son left to me in my old age.”</p> - -<p>“Pardon me, dear madame,” replied Madame de -Montcalm. “It is a hard necessity for us all; if it were -not a necessity my dear husband would assuredly not -separate himself from us, for you know how well he -loves his home.”</p> - -<p>“Well said, wife!” and an arm was thrown round -her and a kiss imprinted on her forehead by a cavalier, -dusty and travel-stained.</p> - -<p>“Father, dear father!” and Mercèdes clung to him. -“How did you come? We have been straining our eyes -to catch the first glimpse of you on the high road.”</p> - -<p>“Have you forgotten the short cut through the -village at the back of the Château, Mercèdes? I left -my escort to come on by the high road, and myself -came across country, through the pine forest. I did -this to gain time. I have not an hour to lose. I must -leave you the day after to-morrow; for you may congratulate me, I have received my nomination as General-in-Chief -of his Majesty’s army in Canada.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, father!” exclaimed Mercèdes.</p> - -<p>“My dear husband!” said Madame de Montcalm, -holding his hand.</p> - -<p>“Mother,” said the General, embracing the old lady, -from whose eyes tears fell fast.</p> - -<p>“It will be a last farewell between thee and me, -my son,” she said.</p> - -<p>“Nay; wherefore take this gloomy view of the situation?” -he answered. “If I remained here I should be -nominated to a regiment, and should, I hope, see some -service. It is only a change of country, with the -superior advantages of a higher position and better -chances for the future. My eldest son is to go back -with me to Versailles, to be presented to the King and -given a commission. Why, mother, I thought you -would rejoice, and hurried on to bring you the good -news. I may be absent a year—two perhaps, if the -English prove very stubborn. Who knows? I may be -Military Governor of Canada when the war is over, -and come home and fetch you all out, and you will -hold your court like a queen in the Government House -at Quebec,” and he laughed so brightly that the clouds -seemed to break and the natural fears of those who -loved him to dispel in the sunshine of his presence.</p> - -<p>“You were always hopeful, Louis,” said his mother.</p> - -<p>“Why should I be otherwise?” he answered. “We -have desired this appointment; and though at first I -hesitated because of the heavy responsibilities it entails, -I have come to the conclusion that I am as capable as -another, and that Canada is worth fighting for. It is a -French colony, inhabited for generations past by our -own people. It is ‘New France.’ Surely it were a -national disgrace to let it slip through our fingers.”</p> - -<p>He spoke enthusiastically: all his patriotism, all -his ambition, was aroused; a fresh life was opening out -before him, and he rejoiced in the prospect.</p> - -<p>Louis, Marquis de Montcalm, the new Commander-in-Chief -of Canada, was in stature rather short than -tall, but his bearing was dignified and his manners -courteous. His eyes were dark and wonderfully brilliant; -indeed, the whole expression of his face inspired -confidence and affection. He had married in early life -Mademoiselle Louise de Roulay, and the marriage had -proved a happy one. Ten children had been born to -them; but six only were living at the time of our story.</p> - -<p>Throughout life, in the midst of the corrupt court of -Louis XV., the Marquis de Montcalm had remained a -good man and a true Christian, an example in all -things to the young officers and soldiers under him. -His courage and sympathetic brightness won the -hearts of all who came in contact with him, and he -was beloved, both in life and after death, as it is given -to few men to be.</p> - -<p>“Where are all my other children?” he asked, -looking around, when by his words and manner he had -succeeded in calming his mother’s fears.</p> - -<p>“They went to meet you; see, they are coming -through the chestnut grove, and here is Toto,” said -Madame de Montcalm, lifting up a three-year-old -child who came running along the terrace towards -them, and placing her in her husband’s arms. He -kissed the child tenderly, waited till the others came -up—two sons and two daughters—who, as soon as they -caught sight of him, ran forward with joyous welcome. -When the glad greetings were over, and they had all -calmed down, he said,—</p> - -<p>“Now I will go to my room and brush off some of -the dust of my journey, and then to supper. I must -see neither tears nor sad faces, remember; it is a -good thing and a great honour which has befallen me. -Come, mother,” and with exquisite gallantry he put his -mother’s arm within his own, took his wife’s hand, and, -followed by his troop of sons and daughters, entered the -Castle. In the great hall the servants, many of whom -had grown old in the family, stood ranged on either -side to welcome him, for the news of his arrival had -spread rapidly. He smiled and nodded to them with -pleasant familiarity, saying in his cheery voice, “You -may congratulate me, my friends. Your lord is -indeed nominated to high office as ‘General to his -most gracious Majesty’s army in Canada.’ Who will -go with me?”</p> - -<p>A murmur of congratulation followed these words; -and instantly three men, all young, stepped out from -amongst the servitors, and, bowing low before the -marquis, the foremost one said,—</p> - -<p>“We are ready to follow our gracious master to the -world’s end.”</p> - -<p>“My good Estève,” said the marquis, holding out his -hand to his secretary, who carried it to his lips, “thanks -a thousand times; I should be lost without you. And -you, Joseph and Déjean! you too are willing to brave -the dangers of the sea to accompany your master?”</p> - -<p>“We are, if our master will graciously accept our -services,” said Joseph, his valet.</p> - -<p>“I should be indeed churlish if I refused,” said -Montcalm. “Thanks, my friends; be ready to start -to-morrow. It will be sharp work; the troops are even -now at Brest, ready to embark.” And so saying, he -passed on till he reached his own apartments and -disappeared from view.</p> - - - - -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - -<h2 id='chVI' title='VI—A BRAVE HEART'> - <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER VI</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.1em'>A BRAVE HEART</span> -</h2> - - -<p>“Father, are there no convents in Canada?” -asked Mercèdes.</p> - -<p>“At Quebec, my daughter, I believe the Ursuline -Convent is a very fine establishment,” said the General. -“It was founded more than a hundred years ago, in -1640, by a very rich and very beautiful woman, Madame -de Peltrie. It is a romantic story. Her home was -near Caen, in Normandy, and her husband dying soon -after her marriage, she desired to enter a nunnery; but -her father, who was old, opposed her wishes, and she -remained with him until his death. Then she sold all -her possessions, and with another lady like-minded, -Marie de l’Incarnation, set sail with a party of Jesuit -missionaries for Canada. After untold hardships they -arrived at Quebec; and there she built a convent and -opened a school for Indian children, which she dedicated -to St. Ursula.”</p> - -<p>“How do you know all this, father?” asked the -young girl, as she walked beside him on the terrace -early the following morning.</p> - -<p>Mercèdes was the General’s especial favourite, and -when he was at home was always with him; nevertheless, -being the third daughter, from an early age she -had been destined to a convent life. She was perfectly -happy, and looked upon her future with complacent -satisfaction; it was the fate of many highborn girls -in those days. She closely resembled her father, was -small, sallow of complexion, with dark, sparkling eyes, -full of intelligence and sweetness.</p> - -<p>“I learnt the story through a Jesuit whom I met -the other day at Court,” answered her father. “He -had just returned from Canada, and when he heard -who I was, and my position, he gave me much useful -information. He is a remarkably intelligent man, and -very devoted to the interests of the colony. He has -been a missionary amongst the Indian tribe of the -Iroquois for over twenty years. He will probably -return with me. His name is Father Mathevet.”</p> - -<p>“And he said the convent was a good one? Are -the nuns French?” asked Mercèdes.</p> - -<p>“French Canadians mostly; but I believe he mentioned -that two or three ladies from the mother country -had joined the community within the last year.”</p> - -<p>“Father, let me go.”</p> - -<p>“You, Mercèdes? My child, it is impossible!”</p> - -<p>“Why impossible?” she said, in a coaxing voice. -“It is settled for me to begin my novitiate at the -Augustines; why should I not go out to Canada with -you and enter the Ursulines? I should like it much -better. It would be rather amusing teaching Indian -children; and then you would not be alone.”</p> - -<p>He looked down at her. The plan seemed to chime -in with his dearest wishes. The General was a man -devoted to his home and his children, and the thought -of being separated from them all, though he accepted -it as a necessity, was very painful to him. The sudden -idea of having this child, his little Mercèdes, within -reach, to whom he might speak of the dear absent ones, -who in all things would sympathise with and understand -him, was such an unexpected joy.</p> - -<p>“Do you really mean it?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“If I did not, should I propose it?” she answered. -“You know I am of small account in the house, as it -has always been settled I should be a nun; whether I -am here or in Canada it can make no difference. I do -not belong to the world, but to God; you and my -mother gave me to Him when I was an infant; and -think how happy I shall be if, whilst fulfilling my -vocation, I can be a comfort to you, my dearest father,” -and she clung to his arm.</p> - -<p>“That you would most assuredly be,” he said; “the -very fact of having you near me would be a comfort. -But shall you not be afraid to go so far—to cross the -sea, Mercèdes?”</p> - -<p>She laughed such a bright, happy laugh. “Afraid -of what?” she said. “Is not God with us always on -sea or on land? And your daughter! Shall I dare to -be afraid?”</p> - -<p>Her father smiled. “Brave heart!” he said; “truly -I do not see why you should not have your wish. A -convent in France or in Canada, it cannot make much -difference—except to me,” he added, and, stooping, he -kissed the young, eager face.</p> - -<p>“You will speak to mother then?” she said.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he answered thoughtfully. “If only I knew -of some woman going out to Canada!”</p> - -<p>“I know some one who would gladly go,” said -Mercèdes.</p> - -<p>“Who?” asked the General.</p> - -<p>“My foster-mother, Marthe Dervieu. You know -her husband is dead, and all her children; she is quite -alone, and loves no one in the world as she loves me. -Only last week she told me that when I entered the -Augustines, she should go there also as serving sister.”</p> - -<p>“That would indeed be just the thing; she is of -a good age, neither too young nor too old. Why, -Mercèdes, everything seems to combine to carry out -your wishes,” said her father.</p> - -<p>“Marthe is just thirty-five; she was only nineteen -when she nursed me,” answered Mercèdes. “She will -be so glad to go away from here, where she has had so -much sorrow. Here comes my mother; I will leave -you with her, my dear father. I am so happy!” and -catching up his hand, she pressed it to her lips, and -then ran lightly down the steps leading from the terrace -into the Château gardens.</p> - -<p>That evening, after supper, it was announced to the -assembled family that Mercèdes was going out to -Canada to become a novice in the Convent of the -Ursulines, and that her nurse Marthe Dervieu had -agreed to accompany her. The mother’s eyes were red -with weeping, and the old grandmother, Madame de -St. Verin, held Mercèdes in her arms murmuring, “My -poor lamb!”</p> - -<p>“Nay, grandmother,” said the girl, though tears -choked her own voice. “You are giving me to God; -what matters it whether it be here or there, so that I -do Him service? And my dear father needs me; he -will feel that I am near him, praying, always praying -for him; and when he is weary he will come into the -quiet cloister, and we shall speak of home and of you all. -Nay, rather rejoice that such high honour is accorded -to me. Instead of an easy life of personal devotion, -which would be mine if I stayed here, I shall teach -little Indian children to worship Christ and show them -the way to heaven. Give me your blessing, grandmother;” -and she sank on her knees before Madame -de St. Verin, who, touched by the girl’s devotion and -enthusiasm, laid her thin white hands on the dark hair, -saying,—</p> - -<p>“May God bless thee, my child, and have you in -His holy keeping now and for evermore.”</p> - -<p>“Amen,” said all present; and then they gathered -round Mercèdes and embraced her, and it was even as -she desired, a scene more of joy than of sorrow.</p> - -<p>The following day the General left, accompanied -only by his son the Chevalier and Estève, his secretary. -He decided at the last moment that his two servants -should wait to escort Mercèdes and Marthe when the -time came for them to join him.</p> - -<p>He would not allow the parting to be a sad one, -reminding his children that they were descended from -heroes, and must demean themselves accordingly.</p> - -<p>The Montcalms traced their lineage back to Dieudonné -Gozon, Grand-Master of the order of St. John of -Jerusalem, who in the sixteenth century delivered the -island of Rhodes from a monstrous serpent, which had -long been the terror of the inhabitants. For this -service he was made Lieutenant-General, and continued -to distinguish himself so greatly that, when he died, -at a good old age, he was honoured and revered by all -men. His race was continued by a long line of knights -and noble gentlemen, and so the Montcalms came -to be reckoned as a race of heroes, and were proud of -their descent.</p> - -<p>The present Marquis, Louis de Montcalm, General-in-Chief -of his Majesty’s army in Canada, had entered -upon his military career at the early age of fourteen, -as did also his great opponent General Wolfe. Boys -were men in those days by the force of circumstances. -At the battle of Plaisance, in 1746, Montcalm was -three times wounded, and at the combat before Exiles -twice.</p> - -<p>When still very young, he had stated in a letter -to his father his idea of what his aim and object in -life ought to be. It is characteristic and worthy of -record.</p> - -<p>“First, to be an honourable man, of good morals, and -a Christian.</p> - -<p>“Secondly, to read in moderation, to know as much -Greek and Latin as most men of the world; also to -know the four rules of arithmetic, and something of -history, geography, and <i>belles lettres</i>, and have a certain -knowledge of the arts and sciences.</p> - -<p>“Thirdly, and above all things, to be obedient, -docile, and very submissive to your orders and those -of my dear mother, and also to defer to the advice of -Monsieur Dumas.</p> - -<p>“Fourthly, to fence and ride as well as my small -abilities will allow.”</p> - -<p>The above-mentioned Monsieur Dumas was the -family preceptor, and he and the young heir were -somewhat antagonistic, Louis not responding as readily -as Dumas could have desired to the educational pressure -to which he would have subjected him. The tutor found -a more apt pupil in the younger brother, who is stated -to have been an infant prodigy, but died at the early -age of seven years of water on the brain, having -acquired during his short life, besides a fair knowledge -of his own maternal language, Latin, Greek, Hebrew, -geography, history sacred and profane, and various -other minor studies. Probably his early death by -no means incited his brother to follow in his steps.</p> - -<p>Throughout life the Marquis de Montcalm maintained -his code of honour, and, as his ancestors had -done before him, left to his children an untarnished -name.</p> - - - - -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - -<h2 id='chVII' title='VII—THROUGH STORM AND TEMPEST'> - <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER VII</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.1em'>THROUGH STORM AND TEMPEST</span> -</h2> - - -<p>Not till the beginning of March of the following -year did the expectant household at the Château -of Candiac receive the order for Mercèdes and her -party to set out and join her father at Rennes. He -wrote thus to his wife:—</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p>“<span class='sc'>Dearest</span>,—The delay has been painfully trying; -the Ministers have been hard to rouse. I have obtained -money, men, and ammunition with great difficulty; -but now the worst is over. I arrived at Rennes this -morning, and shall remain here until my little Mercèdes -appears, which will not be long now. I hope we shall -be at Brest on the 21st of March, and everything will -be on board by the 26th.</p> - -<p>“My son has been here since yesterday, for me to -coach him and get him a uniform made, in which he -will give thanks for his regiment at the same time -as I take my leave in my embroidered coat. Perhaps -I shall leave debts behind; I wait impatiently for the -bills. You have my will; I wish you would get it -copied, and send it to me before I sail. I have much -business on hand still. My health is good, and the -passage will be a time of rest. I shall write up to the -last moment. It is pleasant, I know, to hear particulars -of those we love, and my mother, and you, my dearest -and most beloved, will gladly read even the dullest -details of my life. I am much pleased with my second -officer in command, Chevalier Levis; he is brave and -upright, full of expedients, and a man to be trusted. -I might say the same of Chevalier Bougainville, the -third in command. My greatest difficulty is getting -sufficient troops to face such a campaign. Only twelve -hundred men will embark with me. Now farewell; I -embrace you, my dearest, my mother, and my daughters. -Love to all the family,</p> - -<div style='text-align:right; margin-right:4em;'>“Your devoted husband,</div> -<div style='text-align:right'>”<span class='sc'>Louis de Montcalm</span>.”</div> - -</blockquote> - -<p>Poor Mercèdes! When she saw the sea and the great -ships, the troops of soldiers, and all the noise and -bustle of the port, her heart sank for a moment within -her. But she soon recovered herself, and when her -father looked at her to see what impression the -scene made upon her, she smiled and said quite -quietly,—</p> - -<p>“I suppose one can get accustomed to everything, -but it does seem strange after our beautiful calm -Candiac; I shall at least have seen something of the -world before I bid it farewell.”</p> - -<p>“The idea of crossing the sea does not then alarm -you, my daughter?” asked the General.</p> - -<p>“With God and with you, my father, what have I to -fear?” she answered.</p> - -<p>It was a bright spring day, the second of April, when -they went on board. Six large vessels—large for those -days—were in the harbour; their names have come -down to us—the <i>Léopard</i>, <i>Héros</i>, <i>Illustre</i>, <i>Licorne</i>, -<i>Sauvage</i>, and <i>Sirène</i>. Very different were they from -the transport ships of to-day—devoid of every comfort, -sailing vessels, subject to wind and weather. The -General, with his officers Levis and Bougainville, and -of course Mercèdes and Marthe, took passage in the -<i>Licorne</i>; but they waited to see the troops go on board, -which they did with incredible gaiety, so much so that -Chevalier Bougainville exclaimed, “What a nation is -ours; happy is he who commands it and commands it -worthily!” And so, bravely with strong hearts, officers -and men sailed for the first time across the Atlantic, -at the command of a country which virtually forsook -them in their hour of need.</p> - -<p>Poor Marthe Dervieu was very ill during the whole -voyage, but Mercèdes after the first few days recovered -from the sea-sickness, and was so well and bright that -she put the men to shame. Whenever she could leave -Marthe she came with her father on deck, thankful -to breathe the fresh sea-breeze in lieu of the dark, -stuffy cabin.</p> - -<p>“We are sure to arrive safely; we have a saint on -board,” said the sailors. Nevertheless, when they -were in mid-ocean a fearful gale overtook them, which -lasted ninety hours. Many deemed their end was -near. Mercèdes, as she lay lashed into her hammock, -thought of the sunny plains of Provence, now bright -with flowers; of the dear mother and grandmother, -brothers and sisters; and it seemed to her that she -could hear their prayers above the howling of the -winds and the sound of many waters. Truly they -were terrible nights and days, never forgotten by those -who passed through them; but at last the winds and -the waves were calmed, and the travellers breathed -freely once more. Mercèdes was unlashed; but she -was so stiff that, upon trying to stand, she would -have fallen had not her father upheld and carried her -on to the deck, to see the wonderful icebergs which, -as they approached the St. Lawrence, threatened them -with destruction, and made navigation so difficult that -the ships advanced but slowly, those on board being in -continual fear lest the floating masses should crash -down upon them.</p> - -<p>General Montcalm was fast losing patience. But -for Mercèdes he would have landed, and made his way -as best he could across country to Quebec; and one -day, as Mercèdes was standing behind him, he gave -expression to this wish with a certain amount of -irritability.</p> - -<p>“Father,” said she unhesitatingly, “I have not come -to be a hindrance, but a help and comfort to you; if -you hold back because of me, your duty will suffer. I -am young and strong, and Marthe is well now and will -be much better off the ship than on it. Let us land -with you and make our way to Quebec.”</p> - -<p>The General looked down upon the brave little -creature and smiled. “You do not know what you -are proposing, my child; it would be a difficult journey -for men, impossible for you: it is not to be thought -of.”</p> - -<p>“General, do you see that canoe paddling towards -us? I have been watching it for some time; it is -bearing down upon us, and, if I mistake not, is full -of Indians,” said Chevalier Levis, and he handed the -General his long glass.</p> - -<p>“You are right; they are coming straight up the -river. I wonder whether it means peace or war. If -I only knew the temper of the tribes towards us!” -said Montcalm.</p> - -<p>“That remains for us to find out in the future,” -answered the Chevalier; “but they are decidedly gaining -upon us, and if I mistake not there is a white man -amongst them. Do you see that fellow standing up -with the skin round his shoulders toga fashion, and -the fur cap on his head?”</p> - -<p>He had hardly finished speaking when the canoe -glided up alongside the <i>Licorne</i>, and the man they -had been observing called out in French:</p> - -<p>“We are friends.”</p> - -<p>“It is well,” said Montcalm, stooping over the -bulwarks; “you are welcome. Will you come on -board?”</p> - -<p>“Willingly,” answered Charles Langlade, for it was -he; and easily, without the slightest apparent effort, he -swung himself up the sides of the great ship and -stood in their midst, such a noble specimen of -humanity that the General, stepping forward, held out -his hand, saying,—</p> - -<p>“Who are you? and what are you doing amongst -those savages?”</p> - -<p>A ringing, joyous laugh responded to this question. -“I am Charles Langlade,” he said, “descended from -the first French colonists, and now an Indian chief. -They are my people, and I belong to them,” and then -he rapidly told such portions of his story as he deemed -advisable.</p> - -<p>“But if you so desired to serve France, why did -you not join the regular Canadian government and -army?” asked the Chevalier Levis.</p> - -<p>“When you have been in Quebec six weeks, -and have made acquaintance with those who at -present govern Canada, you will have no need to -ask me that question,” answered Charles. “For -months I have been waiting for your coming. If -Canada is to be saved, it will be by you and not -by them. And now I am on my way to Quebec -with some six hundred men of my tribe; and when -I saw your ships coming up the St. Lawrence, I knew -that at last the old country had remembered us, and -so I put off to see if I could be of any service to you.”</p> - -<p>“Indeed you can,” said Montcalm eagerly. “I am -very anxious to get to Quebec myself as quickly as -possible; but being utterly ignorant of the country -and the mode of travelling, I am at a loss how to -proceed.”</p> - -<p>“If you are willing to entrust yourself to me, I think -the journey can be accomplished without great difficulty. -Alone you would find it almost impossible. It is the -season of the year when we take our furs up to -Quebec for sale: if you will accompany us, I will ensure -your reaching the city in safety, and as rapidly -as may be.”</p> - -<p>“I should be very grateful,” said the General, “but -I am not alone. I cannot well leave my daughter and -her servant to land with the troops.”</p> - -<p>“Your daughter!” exclaimed Charles; for wrapped -in a great cloak, with the hood drawn down over her -face to protect it from the wind, Mercèdes, standing -behind the officers, had escaped observation. Now she -stepped forward, threw back her hood, and showed a -small white face, whiter and thinner than when she -left France, and with eyes which looked preternaturally -large and brilliant.</p> - -<p>“I can travel,” she said; “I am not afraid either of -the cold or of the fatigue. I am very strong.” The -pure intonation of the gentle voice, the delicate refinement -of the high-bred girl, were evident, even in these -few simple words, and came home to Charles Langlade -with peculiar force, unaccustomed as he was to civilised -life.</p> - -<p>“Mademoiselle wishes to travel by land to Quebec?” -he said, looking at her and instinctively baring his -head before her.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” she answered. “If my father goes I must -go too; I cannot be a hindrance to him.”</p> - -<p>“It will be difficult,” he said. “The snow and ice -are only partially melted; there are still large fields -of ice. You do not know our Canada; it is a rude -country. If it were mid-winter it would be better -than now; then the rivers are frozen over and the -land is covered with snow, and with skates, sleighs, -and snowshoes we can travel easily and rapidly; but -now the thaw has set in, and the rivers are no longer -safe, the floods are rising, and the land is inundated.”</p> - -<p>“You said you could take my father by land to -Quebec,” she answered, speaking imperatively; “therefore -you must do it, and I and Marthe must go likewise. -You know you can if you will to do so.”</p> - -<p>He could not help smiling; she appeared such a child -to him, so utterly fearless because so utterly ignorant -of danger.</p> - -<p>Take her! Of course he could take her, if, as she -said, he so willed it; and it seemed suddenly as if he -had no will but hers.</p> - -<p>“It can be done, General,” he said, turning to the -Marquis. “If you will trust me, I will conduct your -party to Quebec.”</p> - -<p>“Will it be safe?” said Chevalier Levis. “You do -not know this man,” he added in a low voice to the -General.</p> - -<p>“If I say it is safe, who will dare gainsay me?” said -Charles Langlade haughtily.</p> - -<p>“We will go, father,” said Mercèdes, laying her hand -on the General’s arm.</p> - -<p>He hesitated one moment; then he looked up at -the Canadian hunter, saying, “I will trust you. Go -I must, for my duty calls me. When shall we -start?”</p> - -<p>“It is too late to-day; to-morrow at dawn I will be -here to fetch you.”</p> - -<p>“It is well; we will await you,” said the General.</p> - - - - -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - -<h2 id='chVIII' title='VIII—BY LAND'> - <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER VIII</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.1em'>BY LAND</span> -</h2> - - -<p>The dawn had hardly broken over the land when -a low prolonged whistle intimated to General -Montcalm and his party that Charles Langlade, true -to his promise, awaited them. The cold was intense, -more especially to those born and bred in the sunny -plains of Provence, and Mercèdes and her foster-mother -Marthe, notwithstanding all their resolution, -shivered under their thick furs, as they stood on the -deck of the <i>Licorne</i> for the last time. Charles Langlade -leapt on board, saluted the General and his officers, and -then, turning to Mercèdes, said,—</p> - -<p>“You are still quite decided to make the venture, -Mademoiselle?”</p> - -<p>“Quite,” she answered in a clear, sweet voice, which -struck like the notes of a silver bell on the Canadian’s -ear.</p> - -<p>“It is well,” he answered. “I think we shall be -fortunate. Snow has fallen all night; it is freezing now; -travelling will be easier than I expected.” He left her, -and helped to hand what little luggage the travellers -ventured to take with them into the canoe. No -Indians had accompanied him on the present occasion; -he had only brought his faithful John Stone, who had -rarely left him since together they had bidden adieu -to New England.</p> - -<p>He was standing up in the canoe now, ready to -receive the strangers. Mercèdes was the first to be -lowered; Marthe, Estève, and the two servants followed. -The General lingered to say a few parting words to the -officers he left in command; then he, too, dropped -into the canoe, and took his place beside his daughter. -A few seconds later the canoe was paddled to the -shore.</p> - -<p>“Excuse me, Mademoiselle,” said Charles Langlade, -and quietly he took Mercèdes in his arms and leapt on -land with her. John Stone did as much for Marthe. -Two Indians were awaiting them; one picked up the -canoe, the other the luggage, and all disappeared -in the direction of the forest. It was the middle of -April, but the land was still snow-bound, though the -thaw which had set in had begun to loosen the ice on -the lakes and rivers: it had been an unusually severe -and prolonged winter.</p> - -<p>Charles Langlade produced snowshoes for the party, -and having duly adjusted them they started.</p> - -<p>“As soon as we have crossed the forest we shall gain -the open country for some miles,” Charles explained to -the General, “and sleighs will then carry us rapidly -over the ground.” But after their long confinement -on the ship, the travellers found walking for miles -over the snow-covered ground so fatiguing that, after -a couple of hours’ march, they were obliged to rest -before entering the forest. A clearance was made, a -huge fire lighted, round which they all gathered, -wrapped in skins and blankets to protect them from -the cold winds. Mercèdes was so exhausted that, after -partaking of some food, she lay with her head on her -father’s shoulder and fell asleep.</p> - -<p>When she awoke she found herself being carried by -two strong arms. She was so muffled up that she could -not in the least see who her bearer was, and a sensation -of unreasoning fear crept over her. “Father,” she -called out, trying to move.</p> - -<p>“Gently, Mademoiselle,” said a voice which she -recognised at once. “You have had a good rest, and -will be glad to walk now, I daresay,” and she felt herself -placed on the ground, and her wraps loosened from -around her.</p> - -<p>The whole party had stopped, and, as she stood in -their midst, her father said, smiling,—</p> - -<p>“You’ve had the best of it, Mercèdes; we are nearly -done up again, and you are fresh as a young colt, -or ought to be. Thank Monsieur; he has carried you -for the last two hours.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, how could you let him?” exclaimed Mercèdes -reproachfully.</p> - -<p>“We could not leave you behind, and you were sleeping -so deeply that it would have been impossible to -rouse you sufficiently for you to walk. Monsieur is -kind enough to say that your weight is nothing compared -to that of a deer.”</p> - -<p>Charles laughed. “Indeed no,” he said; “you need -not fear having wearied me, Mademoiselle. I hardly -knew I had a burden, you are so small and light. But -now we must hurry forward; we have still some distance -to go before we reach the log hut where we shall put -up for the night.”</p> - -<p>“Poor Marthe! Let me help you; you can hardly -drag yourself,” said Mercèdes to her foster-mother.</p> - -<p>“I’m not so bad as that, Mademoiselle,” answered the -patient peasant woman; “the man’s like the master, -he’s helped me along;” and she pointed to John Stone, -who smiled and nodded without understanding her, and, -once more taking her arm, he almost carried her over -the ground.</p> - -<p>The day was drawing to a close when they reached -the log or lumber camp, and saw the smoke rising -straight in the air, giving promise at least of shelter -and of warmth.</p> - -<p>These log or lumber camps were and are still all constructed -on much the same model, being composed of -pine trunks, placed lengthwise one above the other, -with a sloping roof covered over with pine boughs, and -often, as on the present occasion, with a thick layer -of snow. The fire is in the centre, and the inmates lie -on pallets made of the soft twigs of the spruce, with -their feet inwards, and well wrapped up in rugs and -blankets. None but those who have experienced it -can conceive the comfort of a log hut in the depths -of a primeval forest. When Charles Langlade and his -party arrived it was already fairly crowded: but room -was instantly made for the new-comers; they were -welcomed with true, genuine hospitality, such as is often -lacking in more civilised countries. They were offered -a share of the coarse but wholesome food—salt pork, -bread, and potatoes, washed down with a weak decoction -of a sort of herb tea. Mercèdes and Marthe, with the -wife of the lumber-man, were the only women, amidst -a score of men; but they were treated with the most -perfect respect, the warmest and most secluded corner -being assigned to them; and although every available -space was occupied, there was no impurity in the -atmosphere, as an enormous log fire was kept constantly -burning, and the apartment was thus freely -ventilated through the large smoke flue of the roof. -It would have required far greater discomfort to have -prevented any of the party from resting, so thoroughly -were they all worn out with the unaccustomed method -of travelling and the exhilarating air they had inhaled -all day. So it came to pass that, wrapped in furs and -blankets on the primitive pallets, they fell asleep, and -did not awake till with the dawn of day their companions -began to move; then they arose, and, after a -frugal meal, started off once more.</p> - -<p>There had been a heavy frost that night, which -enabled them to run with ease on snowshoes, with -which they had now become familiar; therefore the -fatigue was less, and before noon they had reached the -border of the forest. Here they found the two Indians -awaiting them with sleighs, in which, after resting for -a couple of hours, they started off again. This new -way of travelling appeared to them simply delightful, -notwithstanding the cold wind which cut their faces -as they flew across the country.</p> - -<p>“We must hurry on,” said Charles Langlade to the -General, who, with Mercèdes and Marthe, occupied his -sleigh; “the thaw is coming, and then the roads will -be impassable.”</p> - -<p>Several times they were stopped by rivers or broad -streams, but they always found the Indians waiting -for them with the canoe or raft.</p> - -<p>“How have you done it? It is wonderful, such -forethought,” said the General on one occasion to -Charles.</p> - -<p>“There is nothing wonderful in it,” he said. “The -Indians know where I am bound for and my needs; -they are swift of foot, and every inch of the way is -familiar to them; it is child’s play.”</p> - -<p>The last part of the journey was comparatively easy; -their road lay through many a Canadian village, where -they found ready hospitality; and when by chance the -General made himself known, the enthusiasm of the -inhabitants was unbounded. The population was -entirely French, and intensely patriotic, loving the old -France with a, so to speak, idealised affection.</p> - -<p>“You may rest assured they will rise to a man when -you call upon them to do so,” said Charles Langlade; -and then he added, with something very like a sigh, -“To-morrow you will reach Quebec.”</p> - -<p>“Thanks to you,” said the General. “I do not -know how to express my gratitude for your services!”</p> - -<p>“By making use of me whenever you can,” said -Charles hastily. “Remember, I am always ready. -I ask for nothing better than to serve the cause of -France, to keep Canada for the old country. But the -English are strong; they are determined. Pitt is -Minister, and he is sending out troops. It will be a -hard struggle, a desperate struggle; but if you conciliate -the Indians they will side with France, and -they are a power in themselves. You do not know -me yet; but in Quebec Charles Langlade’s name is -familiar, and you will learn that I am a true man, -ready to support you, and that you may have faith -in me.”</p> - -<p>“You have no need to tell me that; you have proved -it,” said the General. “You are the first friend I have -made in this country; from henceforth you will rank -first in my estimation and affection.”</p> - -<p>So saying, he held out his hand, and Charles -Langlade clasped it, saying solemnly, “It is a covenant -between thee and me.”</p> - -<p>“Let it be so,” answered Montcalm. “And now -we must hurry forward. I cannot express to you my -anxiety to begin operations. What I have already -seen convinces me that we must conquer in the long -run.”</p> - -<p>“I trust so,” answered Charles; but, nevertheless, in -his heart there was a doubt. He knew better than the -sanguine General all the difficulties and stumbling-blocks -which awaited him—party spirit, jealousies, -corruption, treason in high places. But he restrained -himself, and would not give utterance to the warning -note. “Time enough; he will find it out for himself,” -he murmured, as he turned away to give the final -orders for their last day’s march.</p> - -<p>The thaw had set in now, and a south wind was -blowing. The journey was to be finished by boat up -the St. Lawrence; there was no danger, and it was -the quickest mode of transport.</p> - -<p>“I am sorry it is over,” said Mercèdes, as she stood -beside her father waiting to embark.</p> - -<p>The General looked down upon her and smiled.</p> - -<p>“Decidedly Canadian travelling agrees with you; -you are looking remarkably well. I think your mother -would hardly know you.”</p> - -<p>And he was right. The sallow-faced, thin girl had -utterly changed: a rich softness, a glow of colour now -tinged her cheeks; her lips were red, her eyes clear -and bright like stars; the sharpness of feature had given -place to a rounded symmetry. She was not beautiful, -she could never be that; but she was pleasant to look -upon—a picture of youth, wrapped in the dark sable -cloak, the hood fastened underneath her chin framing -the young face with its dark outline. Ten days of -life and exercise in the open air had transformed -Mercèdes.</p> - -<p>“She’s never looked thus, Monsieur le Marquis, since -she was a baby,” said Marthe, “and I used to carry her -out into the vineyards. I never could imagine why -from a brown rosy child she grew so pale; it’s air she -wanted.”</p> - -<p>“Yes; I suppose so,” replied the Marquis carelessly, -and then they descended the bank and entered the -boats.</p> - -<p>Charles Langlade sat in the stern behind Mercèdes, -but he was silent. Had it been summer-time the -scenery up the stately river would have been lovely, -but winter still rested on all things. Not a green hue -so much as tinged the black branches of the trees; only -the groves of pines, upon the summits of which the -snow still rested, gave colour to the landscape. They -shot past the snowy fall of Montmorenci, with its -perpetual leaping avalanche, along the low shores of -the beautiful Isle of Orleans, where the wild grape -festooned the primitive forest, and won from old -Cartier the name of the Isle of Bacchus. Here and -there villages clustered round slim-spired churches in -the vales, or on some gentle height; it was no longer -the wild desolation of the forest, but the gradual -growth of civilisation creeping upon them, until at last -Quebec with its “mural-crowned” and castled rock -rose before them.</p> - -<p>It had been decided that they should land just -outside Quebec, rest for the night at a farmhouse -tenanted by friends of Charles Langlade, and enter the -city the following morning. It was almost dark when -they reached their destination, and as they left the -boat and walked up to the farm, Charles found himself -beside Mercèdes and Marthe.</p> - -<p>“Mademoiselle,” he said, in a low tone, his voice -trembling slightly, “I am glad of this opportunity of -wishing you adieu. I shall be far on my way to join -my tribe before the sun is risen to-morrow.”</p> - -<p>“Will you?” said Mercèdes. “I am so sorry; you -have been so good to me. I wish it were all to -come over again. Cannot you go with us to -Quebec?”</p> - -<p>“Thank you,” he answered; “your words give me -great happiness. I can go no farther with you now, -but it will not be long before we meet again, I -trust.”</p> - -<p>“Meet again!” answered Mercèdes; and if he could -have looked into her face he would have seen a shadow -cross it. “Who can tell? It is not very likely we shall -meet again. I am going to the Convent of St. Ursula -to be a nun.”</p> - -<p>“Ah no!” he exclaimed; “you must not; you are -too brave and good to shut yourself away from the -world.”</p> - -<p>“But I must,” she said; “it was decided long ago, -when I was a child.”</p> - -<p>He made no answer, but set his teeth hard.</p> - -<p>“Adieu, Mademoiselle,” he murmured; then caught -her hand, raised it to his lips, dropped it, and was -gone.</p> - -<p>Mercèdes stood still with a pained feeling at her -heart, and a regretful longing for the world which had -suddenly become so pleasant in her eyes. She drew -a short, impatient sigh.</p> - -<p>“Come, Marthe,” she said; “my father will be -wondering why we linger;” and they hurried forward.</p> - -<p>“He need not have bidden me adieu to-night,” she -thought, when an hour later she stood at the window -of the room which had been allotted for her use, and -looked up at the sky, brilliant with myriads of stars. -She could not guess that he was gazing up at her from -behind the garden fence—the star of his life, although -he knew it not.</p> - - - - -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - -<h2 id='chIX' title='IX—TRUE MEN'> - <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER IX</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.1em'>TRUE MEN</span> -</h2> - - -<p>“Loïs, there are five or six men on horseback just -come up through the village; they are outside the -gate, and are asking for Roger. Where’s mother?” -and Marie Langlade dashed into the kitchen, where -Loïs, her sleeves tucked up above the elbows, was busy -kneading the bread.</p> - -<p>“Roger won’t be back till to-morrow; he’s gone up -country with Stark and Bradstreet after some cattle -which are missing. There was a rumour of the Indians -having been seen down the river, and he’s gone to -reconnoitre. Mother is with Mistress Cleveland; she -was ailing, and sent Charlie up to ask her to come -down. She went an hour ago.”</p> - -<p>“Then you must come out and speak to the -strangers,” said Marie. “They are different from the -men who usually come this way; they are neither -hunters nor merchants, and they sit so straight on -their horses and look so grand, and their speech is soft -and pleasant.”</p> - -<p>“I will come,” said Loïs, smiling at the description; -and taking her hands out of the kneading-trough, she -quickly washed them, drew down her sleeves, and went -out into the porch, followed by Marie.</p> - -<p>They were a great contrast, those two sisters,—Loïs -in the dawn of early womanhood, with her soft dark -hair and rich, ripe complexion, quiet and composed, as -eldest daughters, upon whom tired mothers are often -wont to shift a portion of their burdens, frequently -are; whilst Marie was not yet seventeen, and fair as -a northern maiden, with rippling golden-hued hair, a -rose-leaf complexion, forget-me-not blue eyes; not -beautiful in feature, but fresh and pure and lovable. -Very pleasant they looked as they came out together, -and at sight of them the foremost horseman sprang to -the ground, opened the garden gate, and, doffing his -military cap, came towards them.</p> - -<p>“You are asking, my sister tells me, for Roger -Boscowen,” said Loïs, returning his salute. “He is -not at home; he is gone on an expedition, and will not -be back for some days perhaps; we can never tell how -long he may absent himself.”</p> - -<p>“I am sorry,” said the stranger, in a rich, musical -voice, and with an accent which told Loïs that he was -no colonist, but an Englishman fresh from the old -country; “doubtless,” he continued, “there is some inn -where we can put up our horses and remain until his -return?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes,” answered Loïs; “but if you have come on -business to Roger, you had better wait and see Father -Nat. You look travel-stained; have you come from far?”</p> - -<p>“We have come all the way from Albany,” answered -the stranger, smiling pleasantly, “and we wish to -take up our abode in your village—at least, for a -time.”</p> - -<p>“Indeed,” said Loïs, looking surprised; but too modest -to question him further, she added, “If you will go with -your men to the house yonder I will send for Father -Nat, and you can explain your business to him.”</p> - -<p>“But is not this Roger Boscowen’s house?” asked -the traveller.</p> - -<p>“No,” said Loïs; “this is Alpha Marsh, the Langlades’ -homestead; the Boscowens live next door at -Omega Marsh. But indeed it is much the same, only -as you ask for Roger you had better go to his own -place. I will send men to take your horses, and -Nokomis will provide refreshments for your men.” -She bent her head with a certain stately grace, and -re-entered the house.</p> - -<p>“Quick, Marie,” she said; “find Jim and tell him to -go in search of Father Nat, and let him know of the -arrival of the new-comers. I will go round to Nokomis -and see that she deals out proper hospitality; she is -not over given to generosity.”</p> - -<p>Half an hour later the strangers were seated in -Omega Marsh kitchen, partaking of a plentiful meal, -which was rendered still more palatable served as it -was by two such handmaids as Loïs and Marie. Father -Nat had returned in haste when he heard of the -arrival of the strangers, but he would not allow their -chief to enter into any explanations until he had -refreshed himself.</p> - -<p>They were five in number: four men in the prime -of life, and one lad of seventeen, whom Nathaniel -recognised immediately as the son of an old acquaintance, -William Parkmann, of Massachusetts. He was -a mere boy in appearance, unusually tall and lanky, -overgrown one might say, with an almost girl’s face—he -looked so very young: yet there was no lack of -character in it; the mouth and chin were firm, and the -hazel eyes intelligent and even searching.</p> - -<p>When the supper was cleared away, and the jar of -tobacco and long clay pipes had been placed upon -the table, the evident leader of the party turned to -Nathaniel, and said with infinite courtesy,—</p> - -<p>“After having partaken of your generous hospitality, -it is time we introduced ourselves to you, my -host; especially as it is our intention to remain some -time in the settlement, if you will suffer us to do -so.”</p> - -<p>“Why should I hinder you? If I mistake not, -you are officers in his Gracious Majesty’s army,” said -Nathaniel.</p> - -<p>“You have guessed rightly,” answered the same -speaker. “I am Brigadier Howe, and my companions -are Lieutenants Pringle, Philips, and Roche. I need -scarcely tell you the importance of the struggle going -on between France and England; it has not yet reached -its height, but it will ere long, and it behoves us all -to be prepared to fight to the best of our abilities for -our country and her honour. I am of opinion that -the ordinary system of European warfare will prove a -failure when pitted against Indian and Canadian -fighting; and unless we can acquire some practical -knowledge of their tactics, we run a very great chance -of being worsted. For the last three years you have -suffered frightful aggressions along the borderland -from the Indians and French, and have only been -protected by the courage and abilities of your volunteer -men, your Rangers, as they are called, whose captain, -Roger the Ranger, is, I believe, your son. His name is -in everybody’s mouth as the man of all others the most -capable of rendering assistance to the colony in its -present straits. Thirley, the Governor of Massachusetts, -and William Johnson, of New York, Commander of the -Massachusetts Volunteers, cannot say too much in his -favour; and therefore we four officers of his Majesty’s -army have come to him with a request that, during -the present winter, he will enroll us as members of -his corps of Rangers, subject us to their training, and -allow us to accompany him on all his expeditions; -thus we shall learn forest warfare and the ways of the -enemy, and know how to deal with them. Your son -will be doing inestimable service to the regular army -by thus initiating us. Do you think he will consent -to do this?”</p> - -<p>“I cannot say,” answered Nathaniel. “My son has -thrown himself heart and soul into the defence of the -colony. But for his fame I scarcely think our settlement -would have remained so long unmolested. You -are acquainted with the frightful rapine and murder -which the red warriors have committed in the border -settlements of Virginia and Pennsylvania. The Quakers -even, much against their will, have been driven into -passing a militia law, by the sight of the bodies of the -massacred men paraded about the streets of Philadelphia. -Massachusetts has been foremost in resisting French -and Indian aggression, and has taken the lead in the -preparation for war. I have heard Roger say that the -British army, disciplined as it is, and with officers of -unrivalled bravery, will, from their ignorance of the -country and of the style of warfare, be subject to many -reverses. I think he would approve of your plan, -but you must await his return; he will answer you -himself.”</p> - -<p>“We are quite willing to remain here,” answered -Brigadier Howe, “if you will tell us where we can -put up.”</p> - -<p>Nathaniel smiled. “You are unacquainted with -our New England hospitality,” he said. “We never -turn a stranger from our door; we deem it would bring -us ill-fortune. The Lord has sent you hither, and -until your business with Roger be settled, your place -is laid for you at my table and the guest-chamber is -at your service.”</p> - -<p>“But we are so numerous, and our horses will -encumber your stables,” said the Brigadier.</p> - -<p>“What Omega cannot accomplish Alpha will,” he -answered quietly. “The Boscowens and Langlades, -though they live each under different roofs, form but -one household: it has been so for over four generations.”</p> - -<p>“If such hospitality be amongst your traditions, -far be it from me to gainsay you,” said the Brigadier. -“But that name of Langlade struck me just now. I -heard it lately at Albany; there was much talk of -a Charles Langlade and a certain La Corne, both of -them French Canadians, who had joined the Indians, -taken squaw wives, and become of great importance -in the tribes. Surely that Langlade has no connection -with this family?”</p> - -<p>Nathaniel’s brow darkened.</p> - -<p>“Speak not of it,” he said sternly. “He is our -eldest son. Above all things do not utter his name -before Roger; they were as brothers, and he has become -a thorn in his flesh.”</p> - -<p>He had hardly finished speaking when the door -opened, and Martha, accompanied by the minister and -his wife, entered. Mistress Cleveland’s ailments were -frequent, but never of a very serious nature—often little -more than an excuse for sending to Alpha Marsh and -getting Martha Langlade down for a good day’s gossip. -When, therefore, the news came that strangers had -arrived, she declared herself quite equal to the exertion -of accompanying her husband and Martha—indeed, the -walk she felt sure would be beneficial to her; and so -they set forth together, curious to know who the -newcomers might be. Marcus and the younger members -of the family soon followed, so that the kitchen was -full; and the murmur of many voices and occasional -laughter struck pleasantly on the ear.</p> - -<p>Marcus, though some years older, promptly made -friends with William Parkmann, and heard with interest -all that was going on in the States.</p> - -<p>The young man spoke with enthusiastic affection -of Brigadier Howe; to his young imagination he was -evidently a hero.</p> - -<p>“He will save the colonies,” he affirmed, “because -he’s young and goes to work in the right way. He -is not likely to fall into an ambuscade, as General -Braddock did.”</p> - -<p>“We will hope not,” said Marcus; “one such experience -is sufficient.”</p> - -<p>“I wish you would talk of something besides fighting -and Indians,” said Marie, leaning her elbows on the -table. “It is the same thing every day. I am so -tired of it.”</p> - -<p>“I am afraid you will be much more tired before -it is over, Marie,” said her brother; “the great struggle -has yet to come. One thing is certain, French and -English cannot live together as neighbours unless the -former will take the oath of allegiance, and that their -priests will never allow them to do.”</p> - -<p>“I hope we shall never hear again of anything so -dreadful as the expulsion from Grandpré two years ago,” -said Loïs. “Fancy husbands and wives, parents and -children, torn away from each other, sent hundreds of -miles apart, never to meet again! That seems to me -worse than death; the yearning and the longing, the -never-ceasing anxiety, must be so very terrible!” -and tears filled her eyes, whilst her voice trembled -with emotion.</p> - -<p>“Yes, worse than death,” said a low, deep voice -behind her. “Death means peace, reunion, love. Why -should we fear it, if we but remember His promise, -‘<i>Fear not</i>, I am with thee’?” Loïs turned round, -and met the kindly eyes of Brigadier Howe bent on -her.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” she answered, “there are many worse things -than death—this continuous warfare, the horrors of -the savages, brother warring against brother. Oh! -when will it end? when shall we have peace?” and -the tears which she had striven to restrain rolled down -her face.</p> - -<p>“There, there, Loïs,” said Marcus soothingly. “It -will come in due time; we are all striving after it.”</p> - -<p>“The war is drawing to a close,” said Brigadier -Howe. “England has taken up the gauntlet in good -earnest at last; William Pitt is at the helm, and he -will not rest until Canada is a settled English -Protestant colony.”</p> - -<p>“Amen,” said Minister Cleveland; “and now, mistress, -it’s time we went home; it is getting late, and -the travellers will be glad to go to rest. Good-night -to you all,” and there was a great hand-shaking. Loïs -helped Mistress Cleveland on with her cloak and hood, -commending her to be careful not to take a chill; then -the lantern was lit, and the young people trooped down -to the gate to start them on their way home. Martha -took this opportunity of speaking to Father Nat.</p> - -<p>“You must not take all the five guests, father,” she -said; “have you forgotten that we also have our -guest-chamber?” and she drew herself up with -dignity.</p> - -<p>“Not likely I should forget,” he answered; “choose -which of them you will have, Martha, or shall they -cast lots? Women rule the roost here, sir, as they -do elsewhere,” he said, turning to Howe. “Mistress -Martha will have it she has a right to the honour -of entertaining some of your party; you went to her -gate first, it seems.”</p> - -<p>“True,” said Howe, smiling. “We are flattered by -your desire, madam. We think there is one amongst -us who has already found a flame, and is trying to -singe his wings; if she lead the way, he will not -refuse to follow,” and as he spoke he looked towards -where Marie and William Parkmann were talking to -each other.</p> - -<p>“Tut!” said Martha. “Marie’s only a child.”</p> - -<p>“To our mothers we are always children,” said -Howe sweetly.</p> - -<p>“He’s a nice lad,” said Martha kindly; “let him -come, and one other.”</p> - -<p>“The young with the young,” said Howe, smiling. -“What do you say to Roche?”</p> - -<p>“He is welcome,” said Martha, smiling.</p> - -<p>“Roche and Parkmann,” said Howe, speaking with -a tone of military command, “you are billeted on -Dame Martha Langlade.”</p> - -<p>“Very good, sir,” answered the two young men gladly.</p> - -<p>A general move followed, good-nights were exchanged, -Marcus helped Father Nat show his guests -to their rooms, and then they all separated; only -Father Nat and Brigadier Howe remained in the -chimney corner.</p> - -<p>“If you’ve no objection, we’ll smoke one pipe together -before we part company, Father Nat. I am anxious -to ask you a few questions,” said Howe.</p> - -<p>“You can ask,” answered the father; “maybe I’ll -answer you, maybe I won’t.”</p> - -<p>“I think you will answer me,” said Howe gently, as -he filled his pipe from the jar of tobacco Father Nat -pushed towards him. Stooping, he picked an ember -out of the hearth and lit it, and then he leant back -thoughtfully in the old armchair as the white smoke -slowly curled up the wide open chimney.</p> - - - - -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - -<h2 id='chX' title='X—A NEW FRIENDSHIP'> - <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER X</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.1em'>A NEW FRIENDSHIP</span> -</h2> - - -<p>“What I am about to ask you is from no idle -curiosity, but because my interest has been -aroused for some time past by all I have heard of your -son and his exploits. He is spoken of as a hard man, a -splendid disciplinarian, reckless of his own life, fearing -neither God nor man, with but one object in life—the -driving of the Indian and the French out of the country. -Is this so?”</p> - -<p>A moment’s hesitation, then Father Nat answered: -“It is true. Until three years ago there was not a -more God-fearing, braver, brighter lad along the length -and breadth of the New England border than Roger -Boscowen. He and Charles Langlade were cited as model -young men; there were no better farmers, no better -hunters than they, and their conduct was irreproachable. -I seem to hear them still whistling as they went and -came about the place. Roger is my only child, and -somehow it grew to be a sort of accepted thing that in -due time he should marry Loïs. You saw her to-day, -the eldest Langlade girl; a sweeter woman it would -be impossible to find on the face of the earth. They -were very fond of each other: when the young men were -at home the three were always together. Ah! those -were happy days; but from the hour Charles Langlade -left his home the change began. Roger struggled -against it at first; but after the affair at Miamis, in -which Old Britain was killed and Roger nearly met -his death by the hand of Charles himself, he has been -a changed man, sombre and stern. He told Loïs in -a few words that all was over between them. What -actually passed no one knows, but since that day, -beyond a simple ‘good day’ or ‘good evening,’ they -have never been seen to speak together. He has -never recrossed the threshold of Alpha Marsh, and -when he is at Omega Marsh, neither her mother -nor Loïs comes here. He endures the younger ones, -but he seldom looks at or speaks with them. He -is rarely at home, and has not been to chapel for -more than three years. When the minister would -have exhorted him, he turned away with a bitter -laugh. His heart is hardened, his whole nature is -changed!”</p> - -<p>And Nat shook the ashes out of his pipe and relapsed -into silence.</p> - -<p>“It is a sad story; something I had heard of it -before coming here,” said Howe. “But cheer up, -father. God’s ways are not man’s ways: it is hard -for us to understand His dealings with us,—better -not try; better in simple faith believe that what ‘He -doeth is well done.’ I have heard Roger’s exploits -spoken of as something marvellous. His knowledge -of Indian warfare is so perfect that it is almost impossible -for them to waylay him. It is averred that -he could conduct an army through the forest on -the darkest night. Probably had he continued to -lead the life of an ordinary hunter he would never -have attained this degree of perfection; and we need -such a man now. Surely God has raised him up for -our deliverance.”</p> - -<p>“Maybe, maybe,” answered Father Nat; “Loïs has -said as much, and she is far-sighted.”</p> - -<p>“She seems a right noble woman,” said Howe. “Has -she taken Roger’s desertion much to heart?”</p> - -<p>“You have seen her; does she look like a love-sick -girl?” said Father Nat, almost indignantly. -“Nay, nay; our Loïs is a brave, God-fearing maiden. -She never even winced at the pain he gave her, but -went about her work as if naught had happened. -And she has never changed; she keeps my house -in order, and is her mother’s right hand. No one -ever touches Roger’s things but herself; she comes -and goes from early morning till late at night, and -there is no shadow on her brow. Ah, she’s a bonnie -woman, God bless her!” and Father Nat’s voice was -husky.</p> - -<p>“Truly she must be,” answered Howe; and, remembering -the words she had spoken, “There are -many things worse than death,” he recognised that -here, at least, was one who had early learnt the lesson -“to suffer and be strong.”</p> - -<p>Suddenly the silence was broken by the loud barking -of dogs, and men’s steps were heard coming across the -courtyard, followed by a shrill whistle.</p> - -<p>“It’s Roger!” said Nathaniel, rising. “I never -thought he’d be back so soon; either he has found -the rumours false or he wants more men.”</p> - -<p>He left the kitchen, and Howe heard the back door -unbarred, and by the sounds he could guess that three -or four men had entered the house. They conversed -for some time in low voices; then there was a clatter -of knives and forks. The officer felt his presence -was causing inconvenience; yet he sat on, so intense -was his desire to see this man of whom he had heard -so much.</p> - -<p>His patience was rewarded after a time; he heard -leave-taking, and the outer door open and shut. A few -minutes after Father Nat reappeared, and behind him -towered a man of unusual height, broad-shouldered, -large-limbed, dressed in a plain grey hunting suit with -tan-leather leggings. His face was rough-hewn, cut -in a large mould; hair and beard, both of a reddish -hue, were cropped close; his eyes were of that peculiarly -dark grey showing blue in some lights, and black -when the feelings were wrought to an unusual pitch. -In childhood and youth they had been remarkable -for their brightness, now at most times they were -sombre with a lurid light. Taken as a whole, it -was a passionate face, as of a man at war with himself -and with the world. His brow was broad and -massive; there was intellect and strength in every -line; but the predominant expression was one of -pain, of suffering, of revolt, indicated more especially -by the two deep lines between his eyebrows. -He went straight across the room and held out his -hand to Howe, who rose and came forward to meet -him.</p> - -<p>“My father has told me your purpose,” he said, -“and I know who you are. I will not insult you -by asking you if you really mean to subject yourself -to such training; you have said it, that is -enough. If, when you have tried it for one month, -you or your companions find yourselves physically -unequal to withstand the hardships of such a life, -you can stop; you will at all events have learnt -enough to help you to avoid the mistakes which -have already been made, and which have proved so -disastrous.”</p> - -<p>“That is just what I desire,” answered Howe; -“and I need say no more, for I see you recognise -how important it is that we British officers should -have the knowledge necessary to enable us to -discipline and command our men in this new warfare.”</p> - -<p>“I do fully; I have thought so for a long time. -I have often wondered why you failed to take steps to -acquire that knowledge,” answered Roger.</p> - -<p>“Because officers are scarce,” said Howe. “I have -at last, with difficulty, obtained the leave necessary to -permit me to join your scouting parties this winter. -In the spring, of course, we shall have active engagements, and, I hope, soon make an end of the war. -Pitt is determined to carry things with a high hand, -and is sending out reinforcements, whereas France is -satisfied to leave everything to her general; and though -Montcalm is a splendid officer, and the Canadians -and Indians are devoted to him, he must in the -long run give in, unless he receives fresh troops from -home.”</p> - -<p>“Which is not likely,” answered Roger, seating -himself, and throwing a fresh log of wood on the dying -embers.</p> - -<p>Brigadier Howe was at this time three-and-thirty -years of age—nearly six years Roger’s senior, but he -looked much younger. They represented two distinct -types: the delicately nurtured, high-bred Englishman, -with less actual physical strength than his -New England brother, but possessed of an equal -power of endurance, because of the stronger moral -principle, the higher spiritual and mental perfection -to which he had attained, bringing the body into -subjection.</p> - -<p>That night those two sat long over the fire. Father -Nat wisely left them together; and when they parted -both recognised in the other a kindred soul. Their -interests were in common, their object the same: -the conquest of Canada, the driving out of an alien -power; only the incentives differed. Brigadier Howe -fought for England and for the Protestant faith, -Roger because he hated the Indian and the Canadian. -No personal feelings animated Howe; with Roger they -were entirely personal—vengeance for the loss of -his friend, and hatred because of the pain that loss -inflicted on him. Neither of them recognised these -shades of difference; their aim, and the end they had -in view, united them, and they were both satisfied -with each other.</p> - - - - -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - -<h2 id='chXI' title='XI—DIPLOMACY'> - <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER XI</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.1em'>DIPLOMACY</span> -</h2> - - -<p>“Monsieur, it is quite impossible for us to allow -you to carry such a plan into execution. If -you are barbarous enough to even dream of shutting -this poor child up in a convent, give her time at least -first to live and to enjoy her youth. New France is not -like old France: we are not over-burdened with young -maidens here; indeed, they are greatly in request!”</p> - -<p>The speaker, Madame Péan, was a very beautiful -woman, a Canadian by birth, who had married a -French officer, Major Péan, and because of her beauty -was the acknowledged leader of fashion in Quebec. -All the world bowed down before her, from the Governor, -the Marquis de Vaudreuil, to the ugly hunchback -Maurier, the ally of the two men, Bigot and Varin, -who for some time past had been growing rich on the -misery of Canada.</p> - -<p>Immediately upon his arrival at Quebec Montcalm -had been introduced to Madame Péan, and was -astonished to find there a <i>salon</i> which might have -rivalled any at Versailles. “The ladies are graceful -and elegant,” he wrote to his wife, “and by no means -behind the fashion.” Having heard that Mercèdes had -accompanied her father, Madame Péan took the first -opportunity which offered to ask the General if he -would bring his daughter to one of her receptions, -to which request he replied by saying that Mercèdes -would not go into society, that when he left Quebec -for his first campaign, which would be in the course -of the next fortnight, she would enter the Convent of -the Ursulines.</p> - -<p>“She came over with me,” he said, “that I might -have the consolation of seeing her from time to time -during my exile, and as her vocation was a religious -life it mattered little whether she followed it in the -new or the old country.”</p> - -<p>It was this speech which had called forth Madame -Péan’s somewhat indignant protest.</p> - -<p>“But, Madame,” answered the General, “my -daughter is very young, and is only accompanied by -her nurse. I cannot look after her. I shall not even -have an establishment in Quebec; my duties will call -me here, there, and everywhere. I shall live with my -soldiers. What would you have me do with a young -girl under such circumstances?”</p> - -<p>Madame Péan laughed, such a pleasant, easy laugh, -and, seating herself, signed the General to take a place -on the sofa beside her.</p> - -<p>“Certainly those are difficulties,” she said, “but -by no means insurmountable. Tell me honestly, -General, would you have any objection to a rich -husband for your daughter, if one could be found?”</p> - -<p>“I have never thought of such a thing. Mercèdes -has always been our little nun,” he answered.</p> - -<p>“But would you object?” she persisted.</p> - -<p>“Not if the child wished it, and if, besides being -rich, the man were honourable and of good family,” -said the General.</p> - -<p>“Leave that to me,” answered the lady. “You -must let your ‘little nun,’ as you call her, take up her -abode under my roof during your absence, General. -It will be quite the right thing. This is a great barrack -of a place, and there are three empty rooms just above -my own apartments; now I think of it, they overlook -the gardens of the Ursulines. She can contemplate at -her leisure her future abode, in case my matrimonial -scheme should fail, which I do not think probable; I -am proverbially fortunate,” and she tossed her fair head -and smiled with conscious power.</p> - -<p>“I cannot sufficiently thank you for the interest you -take in my daughter,” answered Montcalm. “I will -consider the matter, and, if you will allow me, will -bring you my answer to-morrow at this same hour; in -any case, my daughter shall tender you her thanks in -person.” He rose, and bowed low before the reigning -beauty; she smiled graciously, and extended her hand, -which, according to the custom of those days, he raised -to his lips; then once more bowing, he withdrew to -make room for others who were waiting to pay their -homage, for Madame Péan held a mimic court, and it -was rumoured, indeed, that with many in high places -her word was law.</p> - -<p>The General did not remain long in the <i>salons</i>, and -as soon as he had disappeared there arose an excited -murmur in the group surrounding Madame Péan. She -rose. “You will never tell me again I am no diplomate, -Monsieur,” she said, turning to the Marquis de -Vaudreuil.</p> - -<p>The Governor smiled. “Who is your last conquest, -Madame?” he said. “Not Montcalm? He is as impregnable -as Quebec itself!”</p> - -<p>“We shall see,” said the lady. “There is a weak -point in every fortress. Have you heard that he has -been mad enough to bring a daughter out here, to -make her a nun at the Ursulines opposite?”</p> - -<p>“And you are bent upon frustrating such pious -designs?” said the Intendant Bigot, who, notwithstanding -his unprepossessing appearance, managed to -ingratiate himself with all sorts and conditions of men; -and by his lavish hospitality and readiness to oblige -was able with impunity to plunder the populace and -secure for himself and his friends immense fortunes. -It is affirmed that one company, with which Major Péan, -the husband of the fair lady we have just introduced -to our readers, was associated, made in the course of one -year a net profit of twelve millions. This was done, to -a great extent, by monopolies. Bigot, himself a native -of Bordeaux, traded under the name of Clavarie with -the firm of Gradis & Son of that city. He was known -to have made a colossal fortune, and lived with royal -splendour, dispensing lavish hospitality at the king’s -expense.</p> - -<p>General Montcalm was too new a comer, and himself -of a too spotless integrity, to even suspect such -dealings; he had already been made aware that the -Governor and native authorities of Canada viewed him -with jealous suspicion, as a stranger and an intruder. -They did not recognise the necessity of his presence -amongst them. The Governor was especially irate at -having to yield precedence to him in military matters; -but the General was determined to do his utmost to -conciliate all parties, and he was ably seconded by his -first and second officers, the Chevaliers Levis and -Bougainville.</p> - -<p>In answer to Bigot’s half-mocking query, Madame -Péan nodded her head, and the sparkling face laughed -acquiescence.</p> - -<p>“I should rather think so,” she said. “I mean to -have and to hold her as a fair hostage. When the war -is over, and the Marquis sails from our coast, we will -let her go home, or to the convent, unless she become -one of ourselves.”</p> - -<p>“Not a bad idea,” said her husband, curling his -moustache, “and you are quite capable of carrying it -into effect.”</p> - -<p>“What Madame wills the gods prosper,” said -Bigot gallantly. “Has any one seen the new importation?”</p> - -<p>“I caught sight of a little sallow-faced girl, with big -black eyes, walking with the General and Charles -Langlade in the lower town yesterday,” said a young -officer.</p> - -<p>“Did not Charles Langlade bring the whole party -across country to Quebec?” asked Bigot.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” answered the Governor; “Montcalm would -not wait till the ships could get up the St. Lawrence, -so he hurried on in front. He’s in a perfect fever to -begin operations.”</p> - -<p>“He will learn to take things more quietly presently,” -said Bigot. “In the meantime, let Madame -take the little girl in hand. According to the natural -course of events, she and Charles Langlade ought to -have managed to fall in love with each other during -their somewhat rough excursion across country. If they -have, that will be another string to our bow; if they -have not—well, dear Madame, you must manage that -they should.”</p> - -<p>“And Charles Langlade’s squaw?” said Madame.</p> - -<p>“Oh, she would be easily disposed of,” said Bigot -carelessly.</p> - -<p>And then, as if the subject had grown unpleasant to -him, he changed the conversation.</p> - -<p>In the meantime the General went slowly and -thoughtfully through the narrow, tortuous streets, past -the magnificent Jesuit College on one side and the -Ursuline Convent on the other. He was feeling depressed; -his reception by the authorities had by no -means been as hearty as he had been led to expect, -and this new proposition concerning Mercèdes also -worried him.</p> - -<p>“I should have done better to leave the child at -home,” he thought.</p> - -<p>At that moment he was met by Chevalier Levis, -who had arrived with the troops, and was camped -outside the town in the plain of Montmorenci.</p> - -<p>“Well, General,” he said gaily, “are things going -pretty smoothly?”</p> - -<p>“By no means,” answered Montcalm; “at every -step I find impediments in my way. These Canadians -take life easily; while the Indians and the English -are fighting for dominion, they seem to think nothing -of so great importance as balls and picnics.”</p> - -<p>“All that will change before long,” said the -Chevalier cheerfully. “You cannot expect everybody -to view events as seriously as you do, General. I -certainly am agreeably surprised. I did not expect -to find such pleasant society and such pretty women -in Quebec; but you are above such trifles! Still, if -you will allow me to say it, do you not think it would -be wise to conciliate the powers that be?”</p> - -<p>“As far as possible I most certainly do,” answered -Montcalm. “A proposition has just been made me -which puts me in an awkward position. If I refuse -I am afraid I shall give great offence, and yet I am -unwilling to agree to it.”</p> - -<p>“What is it?” asked the Chevalier.</p> - -<p>They were entering the Rue St. Louis, in which -street the General had taken a small, one-storied house; -here he had settled Mercèdes and her nurse for the -time being at least.</p> - -<p>“If you will come in I will tell you; your opinion -may help me to decide,” he said.</p> - -<p>A few minutes later they were seated in a plainly -furnished room, the principal ornament of which was -the large white porcelain stove used to warm the -apartment during the severe Canadian winters.</p> - -<p>In a few words the General told Levis his conversation -with Madame Péan. “Do you think it possible -for me to leave Mercèdes in her charge? You must -remember the child is utterly ignorant of the world, -and it seems to me it is a very gay world here in -Quebec, notwithstanding the war.”</p> - -<p>“You cannot afford to offend Madame Péan” -answered Levis; “she is a power in herself, like others -at Versailles. Her <i>salon</i> is the centre of every intrigue; -her will is law. It will not harm Mademoiselle -Mercèdes to spend the next few months under the same -roof as Madame Péan, and to take her share in the -gaieties. It will be time enough when you return in -September for her to take up her abode at the Ursulines, -if she be still so minded. At least, you might explain -the position to her, and let her decide for herself.”</p> - -<p>“And if Mercèdes refuses the invitation, how shall -I explain the fact satisfactorily to Madame without -incurring her anger?” asked Montcalm.</p> - -<p>“Mademoiselle is to call on Madame herself to-morrow, -I believe; let her explain,” said Levis. “But -I am very much mistaken if she refuse to accept the -offer.”</p> - -<p>“I will call her,” said Montcalm.</p> - -<p>He did so, and at the sound of his voice Mercèdes -came running into the room.</p> - -<p>“Have you been in long, father?” she asked, as he -kissed her brow.</p> - -<p>“No, my child,” he said. “But I have something -of importance to say to you, Mercèdes; and, remember, -before you decide one way or the other you must -reflect seriously.”</p> - -<p>He had reseated himself, and, putting his arm round -her, drew her towards him.</p> - -<p>“It was settled that before I left Quebec you -should go to the Ursulines. Supposing I thought it -better to delay your entering the convent, would it -grieve you very much, my daughter?”</p> - -<p>Mercèdes looked at him with surprise. “Where -else should I go, my father? I could not remain here -alone,” she said.</p> - -<p>“I do not suppose you could,” he answered. “This -is what has happened,” and he explained to her his -interview with Madame Péan. “She is a very great -lady, and much considered here in Quebec,” he said. -“I do not wish to offend her, and yet I honestly tell -you, Mercèdes, you will have to be very circumspect -in your conduct. You will be like a lamb in the -midst of wolves, I am afraid.”</p> - -<p>“You need not be afraid for me,” said Mercèdes. -“If it be useful to you that I should go to this lady, -I am quite willing; Marthe will, of course, be with me, -and I shall only await your return.”</p> - -<p>A sense of relief came over the General. He had so -much to combat with the men, that he had felt very -loth to incur female wrath.</p> - -<p>“Then it is settled,” he said, “and I am very glad; -to-morrow I will introduce you. I am afraid, however, -you are badly off for fine clothes, my little nun: it -would be well for you to sally forth with Marthe and -purchase what is needful; it will not do for you to -appear in beggarly fashion before all these fine ladies. -Are you not of my opinion, Chevalier?”</p> - -<p>“Assuredly. Mademoiselle Mercèdes represents -Versailles here at Quebec,” he answered, smiling.</p> - -<p>“I never was at Versailles, and never expect to go -there,” said the young girl, laughing. “I should be -terrified. But here there is neither king nor queen. -These people are not even noble,” she said, with a touch -of old aristocratic pride.</p> - -<p>“True, my Mercèdes,” answered her father, smiling; -“but you must not tell them so.”</p> - -<p>“I understand,” she answered; “and now, if you will -give me a few louis, I will buy what is necessary for me -to have, so that I may do you credit. I only wish I -were beautiful, like my sisters.”</p> - -<p>“It is as well, perhaps, that you are not,” thought -her father, giving her the gold she asked for; then she -embraced him, bowed to the Chevalier Levis, and left -the room.</p> - -<p>It was with a certain degree of excitement that -Mercèdes started on her expedition. As far as she was -concerned, dress had always been a very minor consideration. -She did not belong to the world, and therefore -anything was good enough for her—mostly her mother’s -or sisters’ left-off clothing; but she had a French-woman’s -natural knack for arranging them, and so not -unfrequently her sisters observed that Mercèdes looked -better in old clothes than they did in new ones. She -felt half guilty also at the fact that she was not more -sorry at the delay occasioned by these new plans to her -entering the convent; but she satisfied her conscience -by the fact that it was her father’s will. As she and -Marthe went quickly towards the upper town, where -she believed the best stores were to be found, she was -suddenly aware of a tall figure coming towards her, -stopping in front of them, and saying, “Mademoiselle, -where are you thus hurrying?”</p> - -<p>“Monsieur Langlade,” she answered, holding out -her hand, “we have met just in time for you to tell -me the best stores for stuffs; we are at a loss.”</p> - -<p>“Why, Mademoiselle, are you going to the ball at -the Intendance? I thought you were to retire to the -Ursulines as soon as the General left Quebec.”</p> - -<p>“My father has decided otherwise,” answered Mercèdes. -“I am going to be the guest of Madame Péan -during his absence.”</p> - -<p>Charles Langlade started, hesitated for a moment, -then he asked,—</p> - -<p>“What is the reason of this sudden change?”</p> - -<p>“That I cannot tell you,” answered Mercèdes. “My -father does not, apparently, wish to give offence, -which, if he refuse to allow me to accept Madame -Péan’s invitation, he most certainly will. After all, it -will not make much difference; it is the case of a few -months only. But I have to buy clothes and make -myself generally fitted to properly represent the -family—a difficult and unexpected task.”</p> - -<p>“Which you will surely accomplish creditably,” -answered Charles, “as you will anything you set your -heart on doing.”</p> - -<p>“I am glad you have such a good opinion of me,” -answered Mercèdes. “I shall certainly try, for my -dear father’s sake. And now, where can I go to make -my purchases?”</p> - -<p>“Having no womankind of my own to clothe in -fashionable attire, I am somewhat at a loss,” said -Charles. “But if you will follow me I think I know a -good draper who will sell you stuffs, and may perhaps be -able to direct you where to go for your other purchases.”</p> - -<p>So saying, he preceded them through the tortuous -thoroughfares of the lower town, and in a side street -came to a quaint old wooden house, the upper story -projecting over the basement, throwing a deep shadow -over the interior of what proved to be the storehouse.</p> - -<p>Charles Langlade spoke a few words in a low voice -to the master, who came forward, the result of which -was that he bowed low before Mercèdes, assuring her -that his poor store was highly honoured by her patronage, -which, being unaccustomed to such homage, disconcerted -her not a little. Charles Langlade, feeling -his presence was no longer needed, took his leave, if -truth be told, with a strangely lightened heart at the -thought that Mercèdes was not so soon to disappear -behind the Convent walls.</p> - -<p>Not till the store man asked Mercèdes what she -desired, did she at all realise the difficulties which -lay before her. She looked helplessly at the rich -stuffs he spread out on the counter, seeing which he -smiled. “Mademoiselle is not accustomed to make -purchases for herself,” he said. “Shall I fetch my -wife or daughter? They are in the habit of dressing -the great ladies of Quebec, and will know exactly -what it is desirable for the daughter of our General to -wear.”</p> - -<p>“Do, I pray you,” said Mercèdes; and a few minutes -later Madame Thomas appeared with a young girl, two -or three years older than Mercèdes, both of them -excited and delighted at the sight of the General’s -daughter. Madame was perfectly at home in her -business, and, besides, she was motherly, with such -pleasant, homely ways that Mercèdes exclaimed at -last,—</p> - -<p>“You had better send me just what you think right -and proper. I must spend as little as possible, for my -father is not rich, and has many expenses; you will -please to bear that in mind. If you could let me have -a visiting costume to-morrow, I should be glad. I am -to pay my first visit to the Intendance.”</p> - -<p>“Mademoiselle, if we sit up all night, you shall -have everything you require. Are you not our -General’s daughter, whom it is our duty as well as -our pleasure to serve?” answered Madame Thomas. -“Annette shall herself bring you your costume, and -if you will allow her she will wait and dress you.”</p> - -<p>“A thousand thanks,” said Mercèdes, with her bright, -winning smile. “Now I am quite at rest. Remember, -everything is to be plain, very plain. I have come -to Canada to be a nun at the Convent of the Ursulines; -it is only for a little while I am going into the -world.”</p> - -<p>“Ah, Mademoiselle, I shall be much surprised if -some gallant gentleman does not succeed in making -you change your mind,” said Madame Thomas.</p> - -<p>“Oh no, indeed,” answered Mercèdes, blushing; and -with a pleasant adieu she left the stores and went -home to the little house in St. Louis Street, feeling -as if a strange new life were opening out before -her.</p> - - - - -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - -<h2 id='chXII' title='XII—A TERRIBLE DISASTER'> - <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER XII</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.1em'>A TERRIBLE DISASTER</span> -</h2> - - -<p>It did not take the English officers and William -Parkmann long to settle down in their new home; -the life was so free and easy. Before they had been -a week at Marshwood they knew and were known of -the whole colony, and were immense favourites. The -dangers which surrounded the colonists were becoming -daily more and more evident. Scarcely a week passed -but what news came of villages burnt and sacked, and -of the atrocious cruelties perpetrated by the Indians. -So far Marshwood had been unmolested, owing, it was -generally supposed, to Roger’s renown and the number -of scouts or Rangers always about. Roger began at -once to put the new recruits into training, taking them -out into the forests, and organising mimic fights. -Brigadier Howe, as he chose to be called, though Roger -knew full well that his real title and rank were -Brigadier-General Lord Howe, was in right good earnest, -and applied himself thoroughly to the study of forest -warfare. His companions followed his example; they -had their hair cut close like the Rangers, dressed themselves -after the same fashion, wearing leggings to -protect them from the briers. As soon as Roger considered them sufficiently trained, they accompanied him -on expeditions to the frontier; upon which occasions -each man had to carry in his knapsack thirty pounds -of meat,—this being the only food they had to depend -upon, and which they cooked themselves,—one blanket, -and a bearskin.</p> - -<p>Before the middle of November the snow lay -thick upon the ground, and the rivers were icebound. -A great stillness seemed to descend upon -the land, and the Rangers dispersed to their homes, -with the exception of a certain number of scouts, who -remained on guard. Roger was mostly with them, and -Brigadier Howe was always in his company. A great -feeling of sympathy grew up between the two men. -Different as their characters were, yet they understood -each other, Howe’s gentle, energetic nature tending -to soften and hold in check the violence and strong-headedness -of his companion. Roger learned to admire -the indomitable will which enabled this delicate nobleman, -accustomed to all the luxury and refinement of -civilised life, to face the greatest hardships willingly, -and without a murmur. Nothing held him back; -where Roger went he went, always bright and cheery, -seeming to have no thought of self. There was an -undercurrent running through his life which Roger -was slow to recognise, because he was unwilling to -do so—namely, an unobtrusive piety.</p> - -<p>He made no religious boast, he was seldom heard to -speak of those things which were in very truth nearest -his heart, but his daily life bore testimony to his faith. -A small pocket Bible was his never-failing companion, -and often by the camp fire, when his comrades lay -sleeping, wrapped in their blankets and bearskins, -Roger watched him draw it forth, and by the flickering -flame peruse the sacred volume.</p> - -<p>Whenever it was possible, he coaxed Roger to cease -warfare on the Sabbath Day, and to return to Marshwood, -often accomplishing the homeward journey under -very adverse circumstances and with great fatigue; but -nevertheless he was sure to be in his place in chapel, -an attentive listener to John Cleveland’s exhortations. -The minister was his most devoted admirer, and -declared to Nathaniel that the Englishman’s example -had worked a wonderful change on the young men -in the colony. Only Roger held aloof in sombre -pride. Yet, notwithstanding the coming danger which -threatened them all, and which at any moment might -overtake them, it was impossible to check the natural -enjoyment which sprang up, the result of youth and -health. The clear atmosphere was so exhilarating -that the young people could not remain within doors. -Sleighing parties, tobogganing, skating on the lakes and -rivers, occupied every spare minute of the short winter -day. Shouts of merry laughter rang out on the frosty -air. All the inhabitants of the village would turn out on -fine afternoons, making their way in snowshoes down to -the icebound river, and there disporting themselves, -sometimes till the moon and stars shone out; and then -back home to the warm kitchens and the hospitable -boards.</p> - -<p>“We are having a fine time of it. I never had a -finer in my life,” said young William Parkmann, as he -flew over the ice side by side with Marie Langlade.</p> - -<p>“Yes, we always have a good time in winter,” she -answered; “but this year it seems better than usual,” -and she looked shyly at her companion.</p> - -<p>“I’m glad to hear you say that,” he answered. “I -shall never forget how happy I have been; and perhaps, -Marie, when this war is over, if God spare my life, I -may come back and ask something of you!” and as -he skated close up to her, he slipped his arm into hers, -and so bore her on even more rapidly than before. -There was joy for both of them at that moment in the -mere fact of living. The sun shone brightly on the -glistening snow, which covered alike the hills and -plains, weighing down the branches of the forest trees; -but to William Parkmann Marie’s eyes shone brighter -than the rays of the sun, and her voice was very sweet, -though somewhat serious, as she answered,—</p> - -<p>“When the war is over, William Parkmann—not till -then—must you ask or I answer you aught.”</p> - -<p>“Let it be so,” he replied; and they skated on in -happy silence, dreams of a bright future dancing before -their eyes. They were so young—</p> - -<p style='margin-left:2em;'> -“Hope at the helm<br/> -And pleasure at the prow”—</p> - -<p class='ni'>they could not realise the possibility of a great disaster -coming upon them; but their elders both could and -did.</p> - -<p>The head members of the settlement met every -evening, and took counsel for the general safety. To -these meetings Howe was readily admitted; they were -generally held in the great kitchen of Omega Marsh, -and Father Nathaniel presided. He knew the ways of -the Indians as well as his son, and patrols were organised, -and everything done to prevent a sudden surprise -of the enemy. He and John Cleveland and -Marcus took the command of the home brigade, as -they called it, which consisted chiefly of youths, and -of men past their prime; all the really able-bodied -men were enrolled in Roger’s corps of Rangers, and -were liable at any moment to be called into action.</p> - -<p>When the meeting dispersed, Father Nat and -Brigadier Howe would open the latchet gate which -separated the two homesteads, and go over to Alpha -Marsh and sit with Martha and Loïs, who were always -busy making and mending for the two households. -Howe watched Loïs as she went and came day after -day, caring for everybody, the young and the old, -without apparently one selfish thought; and he felt -inclined to be angry with Roger for visiting upon this -inoffensive, brave-hearted woman the sorrow which -had entered into his own soul. She did not resent -his conduct; to all outward appearance she was indifferent -to his comings or his goings, doing her daily work -methodically, interested in every one and in everything, -from a sick baby in the village to the last bit of news -from Quebec or from the New England States.</p> - -<p>But news did not travel quickly in those days or in -those parts, and the winter was far advanced when -they first heard of the taking of Fort William Henry -by the French. Some scouts of Roger’s arrived one -night, with an account of the frightful massacre by the -Indians which had followed the surrender of the fort. -Montcalm and the French officers had been powerless -to restrain them. The English officer, Colonel Monro, -who was in command of the fort, held out as long as -there was any hope of relief; but when General Webb -from Fort Edward failed to come to his assistance, and -he found himself on all sides surrounded by a French -army commanded by Montcalm in person, hoping -to avoid unnecessary bloodshed, he hoisted the white -flag.</p> - -<p>Montcalm thereupon summoned the Indian chiefs, -and explained to them the honourable terms of capitulation -which he had agreed to, requesting their -adhesion to the same. They gave their consent, -promising to restrain their men; but no sooner had -the garrison evacuated the fort than the Indians, -drunk with rum, rushed in a surging rabble, which, -even if the French guards had exerted themselves to -their utmost—which they did not, owing either to fear -of the Indians or indifference—it would have been -impossible to restrain. A terrible scene of murder -and rapine ensued. Montcalm tried to restore tranquillity, -and by evening some sort of order reigned -in the terrified fortress, and the Canadians, under -their general, De la Corne, agreed to conduct the -English the following morning to Fort Edward. -But a panic came over the unfortunate inhabitants, -and in their terror they started without waiting for -the escort. Instantly the Indians rushed down upon -them, and an indescribable scene of plunder followed. -The savages carried off upwards of two hundred -prisoners, men and women, tomahawking and scalping -hundreds more, before the very eyes of De la Corne -and his Canadians.</p> - -<p>Montcalm, Levis, and the French officers rushed down -into the midst of the fight, and, throwing themselves -upon the English, positively tore them out of the -hands of the Indians.</p> - -<p>“Kill me, but spare the English, who are under -my protection!” shouted Montcalm, snatching a young -officer away from a savage who had just seized him, -and covering him with his own body.</p> - -<p>Montcalm has been severely blamed for not ordering -up the regular French army to save the English; but -being very inferior in number to the Indians and -Canadians, doubtless he considered that if he turned -his arms against his allies, the massacre would be -even more sanguinary.</p> - -<p>This is partly proved by the fact that the column -of the English army offered no resistance: true, they -had no ammunition; only a few of the colonial troops -had bayonets. Had they shown fight they would -probably all have been massacred; as it was, they were -carried off alive by the savages, and later Montcalm -was able to recover five or six hundred. Some of the -fugitives found their way back to the fort; and all -these were sent by Montcalm under a strong escort -to Fort Edward. The remnant of the column dispersed -into the woods, and found their way, after many days -and great perils, to Fort Edward.</p> - -<p>“I am dishonoured,” said Montcalm that night, -pacing up and down his tent, brushing away the tears -from his eyes. “The sights I have seen, the sounds I -have heard this day, will haunt me all my life long!” -Nothing Chevalier Levis or his other officers could say -consoled him. He refused to see De la Corne or any -of the Canadian officers; only once he exclaimed, “If -Charles Langlade had been here, this dishonour would -not have fallen upon me!”</p> - -<p>Such was the news which reached Marshwood.</p> - - - - -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - -<h2 id='chXIII' title='XIII—BRAVELY DONE'> - <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER XIII</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.1em'>BRAVELY DONE</span> -</h2> - - -<p>“I must leave at once,” said Lord Howe, “and make -my way as best I can to Louisburg. Loudon -has failed in his attack on that place; but I am certain -it will be renewed without delay—therefore I will go -there.”</p> - -<p>“I will take you; it is impossible for you to attempt -the journey without a proper escort; besides, we must -push forward in the same direction,” said Roger. “The -Indians have tasted blood; we shall have them swarming -by thousands all over the land.”</p> - -<p>“I expect we shall,” said Howe. “When will you -be ready to start?”</p> - -<p>“We are always ready,” answered Roger sternly; -“make your own preparations, and by dawn to-morrow -we will be on our way;” and having so spoken he -left the house, and was not seen again till suppertime.</p> - -<p>Soon the whole settlement was astir. The indignation -of the colonists was unbounded, and they swore to -be revenged. Before nightfall upwards of three hundred -men had taken to the woods, and scouts had been -sent out in every direction to call the Rangers together. -Every precaution was taken to ensure the safety of the -settlement. Knowing they were watched, instead of -going into the woods by twenties, or even by tens, they -went forth by twos and threes, giving each other a wide -berth; but each man was acquainted with the ultimate -place of meeting; besides, though apparently dispersing, -they were within rallying distance of each other, -and knew the signal agreed upon.</p> - -<p>There was quiet weeping that night in many -households. Marcus had entreated to accompany -Roger, but Martha interfered. “Not brother against -brother,” she said, clinging to him, with tears running -down her face.</p> - -<p>“Stay, Marcus, my friend,” Lord Howe had said. -“It may be that you will be needed here more -than you think for; it is not well to leave Father -Nat alone without a lieutenant;” and so Marcus remained.</p> - -<p>“I shall come back, Marie; don’t cry so, dear,” said -William Parkmann, ready to cry himself at sight of her -grief. “As soon as the war is over John Cleveland -shall marry us, and, darling, I’ll take you right down -to my father’s house in Boston; and you shall never -set eyes on these ugly savages again if I can help -it.” And stooping, he kissed the pretty, fair face of -his little sweetheart, as they stood together for the -last time under the great oak tree at the back of -Alpha Marsh.</p> - -<p>Ah, when would those two meet again, and how? -Well might they linger side by side, the wings of their -young love drooping sadly as they gazed through the -bare branches of the great tree up to the starry -heavens. He led her back into the house, and they -parted at the foot of the staircase, he standing below -watching her, as slowly, with bowed head, she crawled -up and up out of his sight; then with a sigh he turned -away.</p> - -<p>“Now I must be a man!” he said, and entered the -kitchen, where his chief, Brigadier Howe, and his companions, -with Nathaniel, Roger, and others, were in -council.</p> - -<hr class='tb' /> - -<p>“Roger!”</p> - -<p>It was still pitch dark, at that hour between night -and morning when the light of the moon and stars is -dimmed and yet the sun has not risen. Roger had -opened the back door, and was passing out to go down -to the village, having forgotten the night before to order -three canoes to be in readiness in case of need. He -started when he heard himself called. How long had -Loïs been waiting there for him? and how could she -know he would come out?</p> - -<p>“What is it you want?” he asked, in a low, hard -voice.</p> - -<p>“Roger, I have been warned; you and your party are -watched. The danger is great; do not go forth.”</p> - -<p>He laughed. “What nonsense, Loïs! Brigadier -Howe must go, and I must accompany him; he is my -guest. Tell your informant he must have forgotten the -laws of honour, or he would not have sent me that -message.”</p> - -<p>A sigh escaped Loïs.</p> - -<p>“Anything more?” he asked roughly; “if not, let -me pass.”</p> - -<p>“Roger, won’t you say good-bye, maybe for the last -time? <i>He</i> was not there; <i>he</i> did not do those cruel -deeds. Oh, will you never forgive?”</p> - -<p>“Never,” he answered, and passed on.</p> - -<p>The first dawn of day found them all assembled in -Father Nat’s kitchen, partaking of their last meal. It -was soon over, and then a quick farewell, a silent pressure -of hand in hand, and the travellers crossed that -hospitable threshold, many of them never to return -again.</p> - -<p>“God speed you. His blessing be with you all!” said -Father Nat, standing in the porch; and so they went -forth. As Lord Howe passed Loïs he took her hand, -and said gently,—</p> - -<p>“Be of good courage; you will win him yet.”</p> - -<p>Her face was very white, with a strained, weary -look about the soft blue eyes. A short sigh, almost -like a gasp of pain, escaped her. “Thank you,” she -said.</p> - -<p>When the last of the troop had disappeared into the -wood, the women returned to their work with quiet, -animal-like patience, and Nathaniel and Marcus went -into the village with John Cleveland to see that their -orders for the proper protection of the settlement had -been carried out.</p> - -<p>Striking straight across the woods, Roger and his -followers walked rapidly, but with great care, for some -miles without speaking. Their object was to escape -the redskins; and to do this they must needs mislead -them—a most difficult task. To conceal their track -they walked as lightly as possible, avoiding even -brushing against a tree, lest its bark should betray -them; winding in and out, taking a circuitous road, -and practising many other devices. They did not dare -to stop and rest even after several hours’ tramp, because -if they had lain down their bodies would necessarily -have left marks on the ground; so they went forward -till nightfall, when they found themselves on a high -open plain, where it would have been impossible for an -enemy to take them unawares. Here they rested, not -venturing even to light a fire, but eating a portion of -the dried meat, with which each man had been supplied; -and then, wrapped in their bearskins and blankets, they -slept. The following morning they started off again, -and at midday were joined by a party of their own men, -who reported that the Indians were swarming in the -woods, and were only kept at bay by the knowledge -that Roger’s Rangers were abroad.</p> - -<p>“We shall have to take to the river,” said Roger; -“the banks are thickly wooded down to the very edge. -We have scouts on either bank: if the red men see us, -which they are sure to do, they will not dare attack -us.”</p> - -<p>The following day three canoes were launched, into -which Roger, Howe and his companions, with two or -three of the scouts, entered, and the remainder of the -corps dispersed. Noiselessly and rapidly the canoes -were paddled forward, for some time without their -perceiving any sign betokening the presence of the -Indians. Before long they entered the vast solitudes -of the forests; a solemn silence reigned over all, broken -only by the sound of the beaver or the otter as it -plunged into the water, or the cries of the birds as -they flew from tree-top to tree-top.</p> - -<p>After the second day’s journey the river gradually -narrowed, and the roots of the trees which grew down -close to the water’s edge resembled the twisted bodies -of huge serpents. Lord Howe was lying at the bottom -of the foremost canoe, whilst Roger at the head kept -a vigilant look out. Suddenly Howe saw him stoop -over the edge, plunge his hand into the water, and -draw something forth, uttering a low exclamation of -surprise.</p> - -<p>“What is it?” said Howe, lifting himself up.</p> - -<p>Roger did not answer immediately; his eyes were -straining into the depths of the forest; then he raised -his head and looked up to the summits of the trees, -upon the upper branches of which the sun cast its -golden light.</p> - -<p>“See what I have found,” he said, bending forward -and showing Howe a thong in red leather similar to -what the Indians use for fastening on their mocassins. -“They are in front of us,” he said, with an almost -imperceptible movement of his head towards the -forest.</p> - -<p>And now, as they watched, a curious thing occurred. -A couple of hundred yards in advance of them the -river was filled in by pointed rocks, over which the -water rushed with foaming rapidity; only on one -side was a narrow passage, leaving room for one or -two canoes to pass through abreast. Suddenly they -heard a loud cracking, and saw a tree slowly bend and -then fall right across this passage, the upper branches -resting on the pointed rocks.</p> - -<p>“We have been betrayed,” said Roger between his -teeth. “Lie down, sir,” he said to Howe; “they will -open fire upon us.” At the same time he signed to -the rowers in his boat to stop paddling, and thus to -allow the two other canoes to draw up on either side -of his. “Lie down, all of you,” he said; “and now -paddle slowly.” At that moment a troop of Indians, -with arms shining in the sunlight and with savage -cries, dashed down the river bank, launched their -canoes, and directed them towards the three which -were floating almost motionless on the waters.</p> - -<p>Lost! Assuredly they were lost!</p> - -<p>They were all brave men, and had looked death -many a time before in the face; but, nevertheless, at -this supreme moment the horror of a defenceless death -overwhelmed them all.</p> - -<p>“Land us, and let us at least fight it out,” said Howe. -But Roger made no answer; he understood the tactics -of his enemies. Having barred the passage, there -was nothing left for them to do but to surround and -massacre the occupants of the three canoes. They did -not even shoot at them, so certain were they of their -prey. The Indian canoes now advanced in a semicircle, -widening out, somewhat slowly, because their boats were -heavily laden. Each man had his hatchet in his hand -and his knife between his teeth, ready to slay or to scalp -his victims. By degrees the Indians approached so -close upon the three canoes that a few yards alone lay -between them and their prey; they uttered a hideous -cry of victory, which was re-echoed in the woods.</p> - -<p>“Row for your lives!” said Roger suddenly. “If we -reach the tree before the Indians we are saved!”</p> - -<p>Instant obedience followed his command, though to -all appearance they were going to their destruction; -the frail barks must necessarily be dashed to pieces -against the huge trunk of the tree barring their way. -Calm and immovable, his eyes fixed upon the Indian -canoes gradually coming nearer and nearer, Roger -stood ready, as it seemed, to throw himself into the -river. Indians lined the banks, but they dared not -shoot, for fear of injuring their own people. It was only -a question of seconds; their enemies must inevitably -be dashed to pieces, and then they would swim across -the stream and be in at the death. Two of the Indian -canoes in their haste knocked against each other; there -was a moment’s check. The English were within six -feet of the fatal tree. In a second it would be over. -Every man held his breath and uttered a last prayer -to God for mercy. In that second Roger had disappeared. -And then slowly but surely the tree was -lifted as by a lever, and the three canoes, driven by the -current and by the quick impulse of the rowers, passed -underneath. The Indians were close behind; but as -suddenly as it had been lifted so suddenly it fell again, -crushing beneath its weight the warriors and their -overladen barks.</p> - -<p>Terrible cries arose from the woods and from the -surging waters. The evil spirits had interfered; it -was a supernatural intervention. Superstitious terror -seized the Indians, and those on land fled into the -interior of the forest. The thickness of the foliage had -prevented their seeing Roger clamber up the highest -rock and raise the tree on to his broad shoulders, -holding it there just long enough to let his friends -pass underneath.</p> - -<p>In the almost unconscious excitement which followed, -the rowers had continued their course with marvellous -rapidity, forgetful of the one who had saved them, -until Howe, rising, held up his hand and bade them -cease rowing.</p> - -<p>“We must wait for Roger,” he said, and his voice -was tremulous with suppressed emotion. A few minutes -later they saw him swimming towards them; every -hand was stretched out to seize his as he hoisted -himself into the canoe.</p> - -<p>“I’ve cheated those devils once more,” he said, in -his rich, deep voice.</p> - -<p>“It is marvellous,” answered Lord Howe. “With -God’s help you have saved us from an awful death, -Roger.”</p> - -<p>“A mere question of time and strength,” he answered -carelessly. “We must keep to the river now for a few -miles, then land and take to the woods. I don’t think -we shall hear much more of the red gentlemen for -the present; they’ve had a fright,” and he laughed. -His shirt was torn to pieces, and his shoulders were -bruised and bleeding; but his companions thought -they had never seen a grander man than Roger the -Ranger!</p> - - - - -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - -<h2 id='chXIV' title='XIV—SILENT INFLUENCE'> - <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER XIV</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.1em'>SILENT INFLUENCE</span> -</h2> - - -<p>From the first General Montcalm’s position was one -of great difficulty. All the Canadian officials were -opposed to him. Their conduct was so dubious, and -would bear so little looking into, that they feared his -clear-sightedness and uprightness. Vaudreuil, the -governor, was jealous of him, and it was not long -before the General was made to feel this. False -reports concerning him were sent to the court of -France; any advantages he gained over the enemy -Vaudreuil attributed to himself and the civil government.</p> - -<p>“My real crime,” Montcalm wrote to his wife, “is -to have more prestige than Vaudreuil, and, above all -things, more virtue than he has. I much fear time -will only increase his dislike of me.”</p> - -<p>Montcalm’s popularity with the colonists and with -the Indians was another cause for Vaudreuil’s displeasure. -The General was incapable of dissimulation, -and as he had received full military power, he was -naturally impatient of interference, and showed it. -His second officer, Chevalier Levis, was far more -popular: he ingratiated himself with all the government -men—Vaudreuil, Bigot, Varin, etc. He knew -exactly what they were worth; but, as he observed to -Montcalm more than once, “We shall not make them -better by opposition; all we have to do is to make use -of them.” He also did what Montcalm failed to do, -courted the good graces of the ladies. When in the -camp and field, there was not a better officer, and -his devotion to his general knew no bounds; he -stood between him and his enemies, trying to conciliate -all parties; but when off duty he threw himself -into the gaieties both of Quebec and Montreal, -attending the balls and picnics, always gracious and -gallant, and therefore an immense favourite with the -fair sex.</p> - -<p>Montcalm, on the contrary, held himself aloof from -all such dissipations. Notwithstanding his buoyant -nature, the opposition he met with, and the difficulties -which seemed to crowd ever thicker and thicker around -him, weighed upon his spirits, and at times caused -deep depression. He seemed to have a presentiment -that his mission would prove a failure.</p> - -<p>“Ah, when shall I see my dear Candiac again, my -avenue of chestnut trees, and you, my dearest?” he -wrote in one of his letters to his wife.</p> - -<p>Contrary to what might have been expected, Mercèdes -settled down to her new life under Madame -Péan’s roof easily and happily. Certain characters -have a strange admixture of good and evil in them. -Madame Péan had been early spoilt by adulation; she -lived entirely for the world and society. Her husband -was in receipt of immense sums of money, through the -influence of his commercial partners, Bigot and Varin. -His fortune was estimated at three to four millions. -His wife, therefore, could satisfy her passion for luxury, -dress and dissipation. When she proposed taking -Mercèdes into her house, during the General’s first -campaign, it had, as we know, been to get a hold over -Montcalm; but when she saw the little dark-eyed girl, -with the impetuosity of an undisciplined nature she -was taken with a sudden fondness for her, which day -by day grew more intense. Had Mercèdes been -beautiful, jealousy and rivalry might have arisen between -them; but with this simple, nun-like maiden it -was impossible. Her presence in the house gradually -became a necessity to Madame.</p> - -<p>“We are supposed, all of us, to have our guardian -angels,” she said to Mercèdes one day, “and I think -you must be mine. I believe I am a better, and I am -quite sure I am a happier woman, since I have had you -beside me.”</p> - -<p>The suite of rooms at the top of the house which -she had destined for Mercèdes were plain, almost -comfortless, when the latter was first introduced to -them; but before long it was converted into a perfect -nest of comfort and luxury.</p> - -<p>“I don’t want all this, you know; I shall only have -a cold bare cell when I am a nun. You are spoiling -me,” said Mercèdes.</p> - -<p>“It is my pleasure; indeed, my happiness,” answered -Madame. “Sacrifice yourself to me, Mercèdes, my -child. I have been spoilt and adored ever since I can -remember, but I have never cared for anything before. -Let me spoil you; it is a novel pastime.” And so -it came to pass that when the General returned to -Quebec he found Mercèdes settled; and at the first -word he uttered about her leaving, and going to the -Ursulines, Madame exclaimed,—</p> - -<p>“You cannot take her away from me; she is my -guardian angel. She is of more use to me than she -would be in the convent; there she could only pray, -here she is a living example. When I see her little -figure going morning and evening across the road to -the Ursuline Chapel, I feel as if a saint had entered -my house and sanctified it. You need not fear, -Monsieur; nothing evil shall approach her, either by -word or sight. She is my almoner. Somehow she -seems to find out the poor and sick; they come to -her, and she and Marthe are now familiar figures in -the back streets and poor quarters of Quebec. ‘The -little nun, the good General’s daughter,’ she is called. -What would you have more? Let her do her work: -it is a blessed work. She never appears at my grand -receptions. She knows nothing of <i>our</i> world; but -when I am weary I go up to her, and it is as if I -breathed a new life. I am better for it. Leave her -under my roof, General; she is in the world, but not -of it.”</p> - -<p>Still the General hesitated. He knew now that much -that went on at Madame Péan’s was contrary to his -ideas, and in direct opposition to his and his wife’s -code of morals; but the Chevalier Levis added his persuasions -to Madame’s.</p> - -<p>“You will give mortal offence if you remove her,” -he said; “and surely you have enemies enough already. -It is quite true what Madame says: Mademoiselle -Mercèdes lives a life utterly apart from hers. She is -never seen in the <i>salons</i> of the Intendance, and only -appears when it is a quiet home party. You can judge -for yourself.”</p> - -<p>And the General did so. His happiest moments -during his short stay in Quebec were spent in -Mercèdes’ rooms, the windows of which looked upon -the convent gardens, where the silent nuns were pacing -up and down the paths, turning their backs, with -their heavy sable coiffures sweeping their black robes, -and anon their still, mask-like faces, set in that stiff -framework of white linen, towards these windows; and -he felt almost relieved to keep his Mercèdes a little -longer a free agent; she looked so happy and so -well, as she stood beside him in the little greenery -which Madame Péan had created for her of house -plants, tall geraniums, an over-arching ivy, and delicate -roses.</p> - -<p>“You are content to remain here, Mercèdes?” he -asked.</p> - -<p>“Only too content,” she answered. “I try always to -remember it is but for a time, and because she wants -me; and I look across the road and know that my true -home is there.”</p> - -<p>“And you have no regrets for the world you will -leave behind, Mercèdes?” he asked.</p> - -<p>She turned her head slightly on one side, so that the -General could not see the colour which mantled her -face.</p> - -<p>“I think not,” she answered quietly. “Why should -I?”</p> - -<p>And so, when the General left her for the winter campaign, -it was an understood thing that for the present -at least she was to remain with Madame Péan. Events -followed so rapidly—defeats, victories, hair-breadth -escapes—that, feeling she was in safe keeping, the -General had no time to be even anxious about -Mercèdes; and so she led a strange though by no -means an unhappy life in that upper story. Both her -and Marthe’s time was spent working and fashioning -clothes for the poor; for, alas! only too quickly the -poverty and distress grew to be severe. Bread rose to -an exorbitant price; meat there was none save horseflesh. -At least, so Mercèdes saw and heard in her -visits among the poor; but at Madame Péan’s table -there was every luxury both in and out of season. She -remarked upon this more than once, and was told she -must not be too credulous, the poor were so improvident! -At Montreal everything was at famine price, and the -public indignation was so great against the government -that the populace mobbed the Governor, the troops -joining in the mutiny, and it was with difficulty that -Chevalier Levis, by his authority and tact, succeeded -in quelling the rebellion.</p> - -<p>Occasionally, at rare intervals, Mercèdes and Charles -Langlade met. Often months elapsed between these -interviews; then suddenly at the corner of a street, -or maybe as she rose from her knees after service in -the cathedral, Mercèdes would become aware of the -Canadian hunter’s presence. He would salute her, -enquire after her well-being, and walk with her and -Marthe part of the homeward way; but at the door -they parted.</p> - -<p>One day, as Charles Langlade was still standing -cap in hand looking after Mercèdes’ retreating figure, -Madame Péan’s coach drove up. A light came into -her eyes, and she hastened to descend. “At last,” -she murmured, and going quickly up to the young -officer, she said,—</p> - -<p>“Monsieur Langlade, why are you such a stranger? -Major Péan was speaking only yesterday of your -services, how inestimable they are. Will you not -come in and partake of supper? We happen to be -almost alone to-night, and our little nun will then -come out of her shell. You and she are great friends, -if I mistake not.”</p> - -<p>“You honour me too much, Madame,” answered -Charles. “I am but a poor hunter, a chief among -savages. I can scarcely venture to call myself the -friend of my illustrious General’s daughter. When, -as now, I have been with her father, if I happen to meet -her, I give her news of him—that is all.”</p> - -<p>Madame looked at him steadily for a minute, then -said, “But you will come in to supper?” He shook -his head, bowed low, and was gone. And Mercèdes -from her window, looking down, watched the tall figure -as it strode up the street, and at last disappeared. -These interviews made her feel strangely bright and -happy, and she gradually grew to look forward to them. -She knew that he was her father’s right hand, that, so -to speak, he kept guard upon all the country for many -miles round Quebec down the St. Lawrence. The -General himself had told her that, out of his own army, -there was no one he trusted like Charles Langlade and -the tribe he commanded.</p> - -<p>Events were crowding upon each other; and the -General knew full well that unless France came to his -assistance, England must gain the mastery. Pitt was -determined to win and to carry on the colonisation -of the continent under the auspices of Protestantism, -rather than allow France leagued with the Roman -Catholics to gain the ascendency. His policy was -popular; he invited the colonies to co-operate willingly, -and entirely rejected the coercive policy of his predecessors. -He was eminently successful; and whilst -Montcalm wrote in 1758, “New France needs peace, -or sooner or later it must fall—such are the numbers -of the English, such the difficulty of our receiving -supplies,” the colonies were making immense sacrifices -to levy, pay, and clothe the provincial army.</p> - -<p>Massachusetts set a noble example; she was the -frontier and advance-guard of all the colonies against -the enemy. Notwithstanding the extreme poverty of -her population, which lived mainly by fishing, farming, -and a trade hampered by the British navigation laws, -she still imposed taxes to the amount of thirteen -shillings in the pound, and there was no murmuring. -The war gradually assumed almost the character of a -crusade, and was viewed with religious enthusiasm. -All sects for the time being sank their differences, and -the chaplains exhorted their congregations to unite -together, themselves setting the example of good -fellowship.</p> - -<p>“Be courageous, for no cowards go to heaven,” -said Dr. Caleb Rea, chaplain of a Massachusetts regiment, -in his last sermon to a young band of volunteers; -and they went forth, like the Puritans of old, singing -hymns and psalms.</p> - -<p>The Canadian population were not less desirous of -supporting Montcalm and maintaining their independence; -but they had two parties to contend with, -the civil and military government, between whom -there was no union. Besides which, vice, luxury, and -an exorbitant love of gain were rampant among those -who ought to have set the example of moderation and -self-sacrifice; and thus their resources were undermined. -In vain Montcalm applied to the mother -country for help, despatching Bougainville to represent -the state of affairs to the Court at Versailles; but -the sins which were to cause the loss of Canada -were in full force there; and to Bougainville’s earnest -pleading he received for answer, “Eh, Monsieur, when -the house is on fire, one cannot occupy one’s self with -the stable.”</p> - -<p>And so the French officer returned sadly to Canada -and gave this message. Montcalm recognised that -from henceforth he was forsaken by the Court, and -could reckon only upon God’s mercy and his own -genius and courage.</p> - -<p>“Poor king, poor France, <i>cara patria</i>,” was his only -answer; and he prepared for what he knew to be an -almost hopeless struggle.</p> - - - - -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - -<h2 id='chXV' title='XV—LOST'> - <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER XV</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.1em'>LOST</span> -</h2> - - -<p>When Roger had conducted Lord Howe to within -a comparatively safe distance of his destination, -he left him to pursue his journey in company with -another party of scouts, who were going in that -direction, whereas Roger was anxious to gain the mountains -on the western shore of Lake Champlain, where -he foresaw a struggle would shortly take place.</p> - -<p>“We shall meet probably at Ticonderoga, or thereabouts,” -said Howe, as he wrung Roger’s hand at -parting.</p> - -<p>He left the three young officers, Philips, Pringle, -and Roche, with Roger, to complete their apprenticeship, -he said; but William Parkmann accompanied Howe. -The young man’s devotion to his general was such -that he was never happy away from him. And truly -Howe was a man worthy of the affection which he won -at every stage of his short career. A very Spartan in -private and public life, a Christian in word and deed, -a character of ancient times, and a model of military -virtue: such was he. Of him, Wolfe, his great contemporary, -said, “He is the noblest gentleman who -has appeared in my time, and the best soldier in the -British army.”</p> - -<p>Regretfully Roger saw Howe depart. They had lived -together for many months, and each appreciated the -other. Howe grieved for the sorrow and the bitterness -which had come into the young hunter’s life; but he -hoped and believed time would soften the rebellious -temper which made him visit so unjustly Charles -Langlade’s offence upon innocent heads. “If you go -back to Marshwood, remember me at both Alpha and -Omega,” he said at parting; and so each went his way.</p> - -<p>The news of Roger’s last deed of prowess had spread -rapidly. The Indians attributed it to the power of the -spirits, but the Canadians knew better. When Charles -Langlade heard the story, a feeling of pride filled his -heart, almost of regret that he had not been with him—his -friend, his brother; but Roger and his Rangers had -now assumed such importance that they were looked -upon as representing a greater danger than the regular -forces.</p> - -<p>Understanding Indian warfare, with a perfect knowledge -of the whole country, led by a fearless leader, -if they were not kept in check or crushed the results -would certainly be of such a nature as to threaten the -free action of the French and Canadian armies. It -was therefore decided in a council of war that an -expedition of Indians and Canadians should be sent to -meet the Rangers, and, if possible, stop their progress. -Charles Langlade saw the necessity and justice of the -step, but naturally he was loth to take part in it, and -would gladly have remained in the neighbourhood of -Quebec; but his knowledge of the country where the -New England Rangers were likely at the present -moment to be was a reason for his being called to -command the expedition sent against them. In all -honour he could not hold back; he had cast in his lot -with France, and he must needs stand steadfast to the -bitter end.</p> - -<p>This war resembled in many ways a civil war—of all -afflictions which can visit a country the most terrible! -Father against son, brother against brother, the crushing -beneath one’s feet of every domestic tie—a moral -agony from first to last. Rome and Alba, the Horatii -and Curiatii, the Wars of the Roses and the great -English civil war of the seventeenth century, stand out -in the history of the world as times of sore distress and -anguish. Blood flowed freely. Some of the best and -noblest in the land were laid low; but who reckons the -women’s tears of blood, the agony of those hearts torn -with divided affections? Fathers and husbands, brothers -and lovers, drawing their swords against each other—truly -it needed an Amazonian nature to love a country -which demanded such sacrifices. The great French poet -Corneille understood the natural weakness of a woman’s -heart when he pictured Camille, the sister of Horace, -kneeling over her dead lover’s body, cursing Rome and -the arm that had laid him low. So let us ever pray -for peace at home and abroad, the peace which reigned -on earth when the Saviour was born, and which we -believe He will bring with Him at His second coming.</p> - -<p>It was with a heavy heart that Charles Langlade, -true to his sense of duty, took the command of -the Indian and Canadian contingent, and set out to -meet the Rangers, passing up the valley of Trout -Brook, a mountain gorge that opens upon the valley -of Ticonderoga.</p> - -<p>After leaving Howe, Roger had rejoined his men at -the west point of the mountain known as “Roger’s -Rock,” thus named from an exploit in which he had -outwitted the Indians and saved his own and comrades’ -lives when still a mere youth. The rough and rocky -ground was still partially covered with snow, and all -around stood the grey trunks of the forest trees, bearing -aloft their skeleton arms, a tangled intricacy of leafless -twigs.</p> - -<p>Here Roger encamped, knowing full well that the -Indians were in the neighbourhood; but the spot had -natural advantages. Close on the right was a steep -hill, and at a little distance on the left a brook still -partially covered with snow and ice. He sent scouts out -into the woods, and several skirmishes took place; but -he did not believe that at this point the Indians were -in any considerable force. He therefore determined to -rid himself of these enemies by pushing them farther -back, and, being informed through his scouts of the -arrival of a reinforcement from one of the Iroquois -tribes, he judged it would be best to attack them at once.</p> - -<p>Desiring Lieutenant Philips to remain in the rear, -he himself advanced through a mountain pass, at the -farther extremity of which a party of Indians were -encamped. He took them by surprise, and after a short -but desperate skirmish they fled before him. Determined -to drive them farther off, he pursued them, -when suddenly with a loud war-whoop they turned -upon him, and from the surrounding forest Indians -came pouring down on him and his company. Philips -hurried to the rescue; but the little force was overwhelmed -by numbers, and eight officers, beside a -hundred Rangers, lay dead in the snow.</p> - -<p>The young lieutenants Pringle and Roche fought -beside Roger.</p> - -<p>“There is nothing left but for you to escape into the -mountains,” he said at last. “Make your way through -the forest to Fort Edward. Do you see there to the left -a narrow pass? Escape whilst you can; in five minutes -it will be too late. I am responsible for your lives.”</p> - -<p>“Where you go, we go,” said Pringle.</p> - -<p>They were crouching with some twenty men behind -a clump of trees firing upon the savages, but their -ammunition was running short. Philips in his turn -was being overwhelmed. From every part of the forest -the redskins came pouring down.</p> - -<p>“It is of no use; we must run for it,” said Roger. -“Load once more, and when I say ‘fire’ give it them -all together; then up the pass and into the mountains: -it is our only chance.”</p> - -<p>He was obeyed. They poured a volley of shot into -the ranks of the savages, who fell back for a second; -and before they had recovered themselves or the smoke -had cleared away, Roger and a score of his companions -were in full flight. To keep together was impossible; -the Indians harassed them on every side. They scaled -mountains, forded streams, and at last, by nightfall, -Roger, with a handful of followers, had out-distanced -his pursuers and lay hidden in a cave; but, to his -distress, Pringle, Roche, and his own faithful servant, -William Smith, were missing.</p> - -<p>They had no food, and lay all night on the bare -ground. When day dawned they crept out, only to -find traces of the enemy all around. Still it was -impossible to remain in the cave.</p> - -<p>“Listen,” said Roger, “there is only one way of -escape. Once, as you all know, when a mere lad I -scaled yonder mountain. On the opposite side there is -a precipice; it is perpendicular, and the chances are ten -to one of breaking your neck in the descent. I prefer -that to being tomahawked. I advise no one to follow -me. The Indians, who are on the watch, will be sure to -see me, and that will make a diversion in your favour. -If I succeed, once on the other side, I shall have little -difficulty in reaching Fort Edward. My presence -amongst you rather adds to than takes from the -danger of your position. They know I am here, and -Roger’s scalp is, it seems, worth having. We will go -forth together, and make a run for it, till we come to -the foot of Roger’s Mountain; then I will turn off and -begin the ascent. The Indians are sure to follow me. -Let them. I think I know a dodge or two to keep them -at bay. You, in the meantime, take to the woods. If -you get well in and across to the other side you may -escape, but as long as I am with you your chances are -small; they are after me, and will not lose my track. -Are you all agreed?”</p> - -<p>They answered in the affirmative. Two or three were -for accompanying Roger, but he dissuaded them.</p> - -<p>“You would but hamper my movements,” he said, -“and probably come to grief. I know every inch of -the mountain, but you do not; you run less risk in -keeping together; and if I can get round in time I -may muster a band and come to your help. I wonder -what has become of Philips?”</p> - -<p>Alas! like many others, the brave young lieutenant -had been cruelly murdered.</p> - -<p>Moving in and out of the forest, dodging the -Indians in every possible way, the little party at last -reached the foot of the mountain, grey and bare, its -summit rising to the clouds.</p> - -<p>Suddenly, with a shout, Roger was seen scaling it. -To follow him was the natural instinct of the savages. -He let them for a time; then suddenly he turned -round and fired down upon them. Several fell, but, -nothing daunted, they responded. Gradually, as the -ascent grew more and more precipitous, they dropped -off, and the last they saw of Roger was standing on the -edge of what they knew to be a fathomless precipice. -They saw him throw himself forward and disappear -from their sight. Half-way up the mountain they -discovered his bearskin, which he must have thrown -off, and they carried it back in triumph. Its owner was -doubtless lying dashed to pieces in the abyss.</p> - -<p>His companions had followed his advice, and most -of them managed in the course of two or three days -to reach Lake St. George, and from thence Fort -Edward. The young lieutenants Pringle and Roche -fared the worst. Separated from their party, they got -hopelessly lost in the woods. In the brushwood, among -the low branches of the trees, their clothes were soon -reduced to rags. They had no food except a small -portion of dried sausage and a little ginger. After two -days’ and two nights’ wandering they had nothing to -subsist upon but juniper berries and the inner bark -of trees. They fell in with Roger’s own servant, -William Smith, by whose help they made snowshoes -of forked branches, twigs, and leather strings; for their -feet were torn to pieces and half-frozen. The three -struggled on together, wandering over nameless mountains, -climbing over fallen trees, until on the sixth -day they discovered that they had circled round to -their starting-point! But at least now they knew their -bearings, and they reached the bank of Lake St. George. -Here suddenly a heavy snowstorm arose. They -dared not stop; so, bending their heads to the storm, -they fought their way forward into the valley of -Ticonderoga, not eight miles distant from the French -fort. In the struggle Pringle had lost his gun, and -almost his life; they determined therefore to surrender. -Night found them once more in the forest. Here, -utterly exhausted, William Smith became delirious, -laid down, and died. To keep their blood in motion, -and fearful lest if they moved backwards or forwards -they should once more lose themselves in the depths -of the forest, the two officers walked all night round -and round a tree! In the morning, half-dead, they -made for the French fort. When they came in sight -of it, they hoisted a white handkerchief. Instantly -two or three French officers dashed forward and saved -them from the Indians, who had almost laid hands -upon them.</p> - -<p>They were conducted to the fort as prisoners of war, -and kindly treated and tended. Later on they were -exchanged.</p> - -<p><i>Note.</i>—Pringle died in 1800, senior Major-General -of the British army.</p> - - - - -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - -<h2 id='chXVI' title='XVI—FRIENDSHIPS'> - <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER XVI</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.1em'>FRIENDSHIPS</span> -</h2> - - -<p>“There’s a man asking for you, sir!” said a servant -to Lord Howe, as he sat in the verandah of his -friend Colonel Schuyler’s house in Albany.</p> - -<p>It was a lovely day at the end of May. Winter had -given place to a sudden burst of spring, or rather early -summer. The woods were rich with green foliage; sunshine -bathed the land, giving promise of a rich harvest -of grains and fruit, which in this climate ripen almost -as quickly as they spring forth from mother earth.</p> - -<p>“A man asking for me?” said Lord Howe. “What -sort of man?”</p> - -<p>“Well, sir, he’s rather rough-looking: a border man, -I should say,” answered the servant.</p> - -<p>“Better show him up here,” said Colonel Schuyler. -“In these times one has to deal with such a queer -lot.”</p> - -<p>Howe nodded assent, and the servant disappeared. -The General rose and went over to where his hostess, -Madame Schuyler, sat in a low rocking-chair, somewhat -apart from the men, gazing sadly over the town and -country. She and Lord Howe were great friends. He -had been a guest in this hospitable home for several -weeks, and both husband and wife had become deeply -attached to him.</p> - -<p>“What are you thinking of, Madame?” said Howe.</p> - -<p>She looked up at him with tears in her eyes.</p> - -<p>“I was thinking,” she answered, in a low voice, -“that soon you will be leaving us. Will you ever come -back again?”</p> - -<p>“That is as God wills,” said Howe reverently. “Why -trouble? Life and death are in His hands, not in ours. -The great call may come to me here in your happy -home as quickly as on the battle-field. I never feel -nearer death there than elsewhere.”</p> - -<p>Before she could answer him, a quick step was heard -on the verandah. Howe turned round.</p> - -<p>“Roger!” he exclaimed, holding out both his hands.</p> - -<p>“Yes; I’ve turned up again,” said the hunter, as he -returned the greeting. “I suppose, like others, you -reckoned I had taken my last leap?”</p> - -<p>“I did indeed,” answered Howe. “You are almost -like one come back to us from the dead. Let me -introduce you to my friends, and then tell us how it -happens that you are now standing before us alive, -and, what is still more wonderful, sound of limb, if I -mistake not!” and he looked at his friend critically -from head to foot.</p> - -<p>Roger threw his head back and laughed. “Yes, -there are no broken bones,” he answered.</p> - -<p>“Madame,” said Howe, turning to Madame Schuyler, -“allow me to present you to a man I am proud to call -my friend, ‘Roger the Ranger.’”</p> - -<p>“The name is enough,” said the Colonel, coming up. -“The whole country is alive with the story of your -exploits; but your <i>last</i> beats them all. Do your -Rangers know of your escape, sir?”</p> - -<p>“Yes; I joined a party of my men as soon as possible, -but purposely kept quiet for some time,” answered -Roger. “Though not wounded, I was frightfully -bruised; sliding down that rock was no small matter. -I was more dead than alive when I got to the bottom, -and had two or three ugly cuts. I believe I must have -lain unconscious for several hours. When I gathered -myself together I could hardly drag my limbs. I had -to remain hidden in the forest for upwards of a week, -living on juniper berries and anything I could pick -up; fortunately the less a man gets to eat in a case -like mine the better. I knew of a stream, and was -able to get fresh water; so by degrees the fever went -down, and I crawled to Fort Edward. I gave them a -startler there; they thought it was my ghost.”</p> - -<p>“Do you know what has become of Philips?” asked -Lord Howe.</p> - -<p>“Murdered,” answered Roger shortly. “Pringle -and Roche are prisoners of the French, but they are -well treated, and will in all probability be exchanged -before long. Where’s William Parkmann? Gone -home?”</p> - -<p>“No fear of that,” answered Howe; “he is my -faithful esquire, and will not leave me. He has just -gone down the town, but he will be back before long. -He has been in terrible trouble about you. Of course -at the Marshes they know you are safe? You’ve taken -care of that?”</p> - -<p>“Yes; as soon as I was able I sent a party of men -to let them know,” answered Roger; “but it was a -good two months after the mishap. However, fortunately, -news travels slowly out there, and it was -some weeks before they knew anything especial had -happened; and as they are pretty well accustomed to -my hair-breadth escapes, they were not over-ready to -believe the rumour of my death. However, the assurance -that I was alive and well was none the less welcome.”</p> - -<p>“I should rather think not,” said Madame Schuyler; -“but do you really consider it safe for your family to -remain in such an out-of-the-way place? Every day -we hear of villages and settlements burnt and pillaged. -At least, it seems to me it would be better for your -womankind if they came into a city for protection.”</p> - -<p>“I have no womankind,” said Roger sternly, looking -straight before him, so as to avoid Lord Howe’s eye; -“and no power on earth would drag my father away -from the Marshes as long as there is one stone left upon -another. The settlement is large and well defended. -I should say they ran less danger than most of the -border villages; and, in any case, it would not do for -the heads to take flight.”</p> - -<p>“But at Alpha Marsh they are only women,” said -Lord Howe.</p> - -<p>“Marcus is there; he must decide. I have no word -in the matter,” said Roger, turning away to greet -William Parkmann.</p> - -<p>In the course of the evening, to Roger’s annoyance, -the danger to the colonists on the border was again -discussed.</p> - -<p>“My father has offered to send an escort to bring -Mistress Langlade and her daughters to Boston,” said -William Parkmann; “but neither Loïs nor her mother -will move, and of course the younger girls will not -leave them. Surely you might use your influence and -represent to them the risk they are running,” he said, -turning to Roger.</p> - -<p>“I have no influence,” was the stony answer. “My -father and Marcus will do all that can be done to -protect them; besides, as I told you before, I hardly -think the Indians will attack the Marshes. Their -chief has surely power enough to protect his own -people!”</p> - -<p>“I doubt it; besides, Langlade cannot be everywhere,” -said Howe; “and the Indians will owe you a worse -grudge than ever now. Be warned, Roger, and send -word for the women to be sent to Boston.”</p> - -<p>“If I did, Loïs would not obey me,” he said slowly. -Neither Lord Howe nor William Parkmann had ever -heard him pronounce her name before. “He who -ought to have been there to defend his own has forsaken -them; can she do likewise?” he added, turning -away with an angry gesture.</p> - -<p>“There is nothing for it, William,” said Howe gently, -“but to leave them in God’s hands and trust to His -mercy.”</p> - -<p>“Ah, Madame Schuyler,” said William Parkmann -to their hostess, “if you could only see my pretty -Marie! She is like a white lily. To think of those -savages approaching her is agony.”</p> - -<p>“Try and not think of it,” said the lady gently. -“Surely their brother will take care they are not -molested?”</p> - -<p>“He cannot prevent the tribes making raids on the -settlements,” said Lord Howe; “and, besides, I have -heard that Montcalm keeps him as much as he can -with him. It is St. Luc de la Corne and Nivernelle -who were at the head of the late expeditions. But here -comes Roger; better say nothing more at present.”</p> - -<p>The next few weeks were spent in hard, matter-of-fact -preparation for the coming campaign. Roger’s -Rangers came from all parts, and gathered round him -a stronger force than ever, delighted to have once more -found their leader, and prouder than ever of his exploits. -They were to take up their position on Lake St. George, -and to drive Montcalm from several advantageous positions -he held there, more especially from the plateau -of Ticonderoga.</p> - -<p>“Yes, dear lady, we shall part to-morrow,” said Lord -Howe, the eve of the day fixed for the departure of the -army. “I have come to bid you farewell and to thank -you for my happy holiday. I trust before many weeks -are over to return to you victorious. Everything is in -our favour; we have a splendid army, 6367 officers and -soldiers, regulars, and 9054 colonial troops.”</p> - -<p>“If they are well disciplined, I wonder who is to -thank for it!” said Madame Schuyler significantly.</p> - -<p>“Certainly not Mrs. Nabby-Cromby, the ‘Aged -One,’”<sup>[1]</sup> said William Parkmann, who had accompanied -Howe, on his farewell visit.</p> - -<p class='fn'>[Footnote 1: This nickname was generally applied to Abercromby -throughout the army, though he was only fifty-two years of age; but he was -incapable and infirm.]</p> - -<p>“Whatever may be your private opinion, it would -be more agreeable to me if you would express yourself, -when speaking of our General-in-Chief, more respectfully,” -said Lord Howe severely.</p> - -<p>“I am sorry,” said William Parkmann, who knew -full well that the least breach of discipline was an -unpardonable offence in the eyes of his leader.</p> - -<p>Brigadier-General Howe was in reality the soul of the -expedition; the soldiers were devoted to him, and ready -to follow him to the death. Yet he was a strict disciplinarian. -He had brought to bear upon the army -all the experience he had gathered during his months -of forest warfare under Roger. He made the men -under his command dress according to their work. -The coats of both regulars and provincials were cut -short at the waist; they wore leggings to protect them -from the briers. He did away with the long hair -which was still the fashion in the English army. All -these details would have rendered many men unpopular; -but in Howe’s case it had the contrary effect: the -sweetness of his temper, his own personal example, and -the excessive charm of his manner carried all before -him. With the exception of the few weeks he had -been persuaded to spend with the Schuylers whilst in -the neighbourhood of Albany, he lived in camp with -his men, simply and roughly, sharing their hardships, -and, one and all, they appreciated his self-sacrifice.</p> - -<p>“Nevertheless, though you are too modest to care to -hear it, what William Parkmann says is true,” said -Madame Schuyler. “Without you there would be -neither order nor discipline in the army. If anything -were to happen to you, there would be an end to all -things.”</p> - -<p>“We might throw down our arms at once,” said -William Parkmann. “General Montcalm would have -a fine chance.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t think there’s a man I’m so sorry for as that -man, though he be our enemy!” said Howe. “But for -him we should walk over the ground. He’s a splendid -general, and is holding his own against desperate odds, -Vaudreuil is jealous of him, and thwarts him at every -step; and the other Canadian officials are thieves and -robbers. If Montcalm held all the power in his own -hands, and was properly seconded, we should have but -little chance; as it is he may yet win!”</p> - -<p>“You don’t really think he will?” said Madame -Schuyler.</p> - -<p>“No, I do not,” answered Howe; “but still he is -a splendid fellow, and as long as he holds Quebec he -is master of Canada. If he were <i>sole</i> master, then I -should say the odds were for him and against us. And -now, dear lady, farewell. I have still much to see -to to-night, and to-morrow at daybreak we shall start. -Never doubt but what as we pass by I shall look -upwards to your white house on these sunny upland -meadows, and think of the happy hours I have spent -here, and the dear friends I leave behind.”</p> - -<p>“Farewell, and God be with you,” said Madame -Schuyler, her voice choked with tears, as she gave him -her hand; he bent for a second over it.</p> - -<p>“God bless you and yours,” he said; then he turned -away, ran down the terrace, and disappeared from sight.</p> - -<p>William Parkmann hastened to follow his chief’s -example; but as he took leave of Madame Schuyler he -said,—</p> - -<p>“You need not fear for him; he is so beloved; we -all keep watch and ward over him.”</p> - -<p>“It will be of no avail,” she answered sadly. “I -saw him last night in a dream, lying dead in the long -green grass;” and, turning away to hide her emotion, -she slowly re-entered the house.</p> - - - - -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - -<h2 id='chXVII' title='XVII—THROUGH THE FOREST'> - <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER XVII</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.1em'>THROUGH THE FOREST</span> -</h2> - - -<p>It was the 5th of July, 1758. The sun shone forth -in all his glory, gilding the mountain tops and -lighting up the deepest valleys. The English and -Colonial troops had embarked the previous evening on -nine hundred troop-boats; a hundred and thirty-five -whale-boats and a large number of flat boats carried the -artillery.</p> - -<p>It was a superb spectacle, never forgotten by those -who witnessed it, when the boats filed forth and entered -the narrows, a long line extending for six miles. The -flash of oars and glitter of weapons, the banners, -the varied uniforms, the notes of the bugle, the bagpipes, -trumpets, and drums, prolonged by a hundred -woodland echoes, enhanced the brightness of the summer -day and the romantic beauty of the scenery. -The sheen and sparkle of the crystal waters, the countless -islets tufted with pine, birch, and fir, the bordering -mountains, with their green summits and sunny crags, -united to impress this scene upon the minds of all -present.</p> - -<p>“I never beheld such a delightful prospect,” wrote -an eye-witness to his friends at home. There was -something triumphant in it; and the spirits of both -men and officers responded to the general impression. -The boats advanced rapidly down Lake St. George, -and it was still daylight when they halted to await -the baggage and artillery, which were in the rear. -After sunset they started afresh, and by daybreak the -next morning had reached the end of the lake.</p> - -<p>Here they became aware that they were being -watched by an advance party of the French. Roger -immediately landed with his company of Rangers, -and drove the enemy back into the wood, after which -the whole army went on shore. A council of officers -was then called, of whom Howe and Roger were the -leading spirits.</p> - -<p>When the council was over the two men lay side -by side on their outstretched bearskins resting. The -scene was lovely. A plain covered with forest stretched -half a mile or more to the mountains, behind which -lay Trout Brook, whilst ruddy in the warm sunrise rose -the vast bare face of Roger’s Rock.</p> - -<p>“I marvel how you did it!” said Lord Howe to his -companion.</p> - -<p>“It looks worse than it really is,” answered Roger. -“One only needs a steady head, a good eye for distances, -and a firm foot. Nevertheless, I should not -care to try it again. And now what is to be our next -move? Langy and his French have retreated to the -woods. He will probably join Montcalm at the Saw Mills -up by the falls. My advice is to cross the forest, -dislodge the French, and make for Ticonderoga. I know -positively that Montcalm’s army only numbers a fourth -of ours; of course, Levis may bring up reinforcements, -but at present he is at Montreal, and Vaudreuil may, -and probably will, think proper to detain him there. -It is for us to advance without delay.”</p> - -<p>“Then let us do it at once!” said Lord Howe, -springing up; and, going to the group of officers, he -imparted Roger’s opinion to them.</p> - -<p>It was immediately decided that the Royal Rangers -should take to the woods under Roger, and that -Lord Howe and Major Putman should follow with -two hundred Rangers and scouts, the remainder of -the army in four separate columns bringing up the -rear.</p> - -<p>In less than an hour the plan was carried into effect; -and soon through the silent primeval forest an army -was groping its way, buried in foliage so thick that -no sound of waggons or artillery could be heard, only -“the cawing of the crows, flapping their black wings -over the sea of tree-tops.” The forest was dense; the -way was obstructed by undergrowth, and it was impossible -to see the fallen trees which lay about in every -stage of decay. The sun, even when at its height, -could hardly pierce the canopy of boughs. Roger, who -was in advance, was himself fairly puzzled; but he -knew the direction he had to take, and was able to -guide his men, fully believing Howe was on the same -track; and so in truth he was, only at a greater distance -than Roger had supposed. Suddenly Lord Howe and -those nearest to him heard voices close upon them, -and recognised that they were French. They checked -their advance and listened.</p> - -<p>“We are caught in an ambush,” said Lord Howe, -“or else it is the advance party under Langy who -are in retreat, and have lost their way. One thing is -in our favour: in the darkness they cannot recognise -friend from foe. We must try to push through them. -Let no man speak. If they challenge us the word is -‘Français.’ I’ll give it!”</p> - -<p>He was right in his surmise. It was Langy with his -three hundred and fifty men who had got lost in the -woods, and now found themselves in the very centre -of the English army, dividing it, so to speak, Roger -and the Royal Rangers in front, Howe and the remainder -of the English army behind. For a few -minutes the two armies were mingled, until a suspicion -of the truth dawned on the French.</p> - -<p>“<i>Qui vive?</i>” shouted Langy.</p> - -<p>“<i>Français!</i>” came from the English; but Langy -was not deceived. A volley of musketry was the -immediate answer. William Parkmann, who was close -beside Howe, saw by the flash of the muskets his chief -stagger. He caught him in his arms, and carried -him out of the ranks. Alas! in that second the -noble spirit had winged its flight to another world. -Those nearest him had seen him fall, and the ill news -spread like wild-fire. A sort of panic seized the soldiers. -They believed they had fallen into an ambush, and -that Montcalm’s whole force was upon them; but -fortunately the Rangers stood firm and fought steadily. -The sound of the musketry reached Roger. A faint -inkling of the truth dawned upon him, and without -hesitation he turned round and took the French -in the rear. Thus, between two fires, their position -was desperate. Nevertheless, they fought with unrivalled -bravery, and of the three hundred and fifty -men of Langy’s corps, fifty only escaped: one hundred -and sixty were made prisoners; the remainder being -killed or drowned in trying to cross the rapids. The -English had lost comparatively few men. But Howe’s -death was an irreparable disaster. “The death of -this one man,” a contemporary observes, “was the -ruin of fifteen thousand!” The soul of Abercromby’s -army expired with this young officer; an almost general -languor crept over the men. Order and discipline -became lax. Abercromby himself seemed paralysed. -Montcalm had retreated to the base of the peninsula -upon which Ticonderoga stands, and had intrenched -himself there.</p> - -<p>The peninsula of Ticonderoga consists of a rocky -plateau, with low grounds on each side, bordering Lake -Champlain on the one hand, and the outlet of Lake -St. George on the other. A ridge is formed across -the plateau. Montcalm decided to defend this ridge -by abattis. Men and officers worked together, making -a barricade of trees eight or nine feet high; every -tree in the neighbourhood was hewn down as if laid -flat by a hurricane.</p> - -<p>Abercromby, fearing Montcalm’s position would be -further strengthened by reinforcements, ordered an -immediate attack; but he himself remained at the Mill, -a mile and a half away in the rear. The English were -therefore virtually without a leader, and nothing was left -them in the coming struggle but blind, headlong valour. -As they advanced to the attack they could see the top -of the breastwork, but not the men who fought behind -it; and when they attempted to penetrate through the -breastwork, or climb over it, they were stopped by -sharpened branches and by a cross fire which poured -down upon them. The French fought with intrepid -gaiety, shouting, “Long live our King! Long live our -General!” Montcalm, with his coat off, was everywhere. -Six times the English returned to the attack. -Campbell Duncan, laird of Inveraw, belonging to the -42nd regiment, called the “Black Watch,” with others -jumped down the abattis into the midst of the French, -and were killed, bayoneted.</p> - -<p>The English lost nineteen hundred men and forty-four -officers; the French three hundred and seventy-seven; -but their officers Bourlamaque and Bougainville were -both wounded, while Levis, who came up at the end, -had his hat twice shot through. Abercromby was at -last obliged to retreat, and Ticonderoga remained in the -hands of the French. Montcalm, in gratitude to God -for having given him the victory over so brave an -enemy, erected a cross on the spot.</p> - -<p>Roger and his Rangers had taken no active part in -the attack upon Ticonderoga; the loss of Howe hung -like a heavy cloud over them. Roger, with Putman, -had remained in the woods, keeping up a border -warfare, pursuing the French and shooting any who -came in his way; and they pursued these tactics so -persistently and aggressively that the French at last -openly attacked the Rangers. With the aid of the -Indians, they succeeded in taking Putman prisoner. -He was, however, rescued from the hands of the -Indians by a French officer, and conveyed under escort -to Ticonderoga, where Montcalm received him and -treated him with kindness. Here he made friends -with Colonel Schuyler, who was also a prisoner, and -together they lamented the death of their friend.</p> - -<p>This victory was to be the last great success of the -French. Slowly but surely they were being pushed back -upon their great fortress, the key of Canada: Quebec. -Still there was no thought of surrender—Montcalm -stood firm at the helm.</p> - - - - -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - -<h2 id='chXVIII' title='XVIII—NADJII'> - <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER XVIII</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.1em'>NADJII</span> -</h2> - - -<p>The first grey light of morning was creeping -through the white curtains of Loïs’ bedroom, -where she was still sleeping, when suddenly, without -any apparent reason, she awoke and sat straight -up.</p> - -<p>“I am certain I heard something or some one,” she -said to herself, and bent forward to listen. For a -few seconds there was silence, save for the twitter of -the awakening birds; then there came a slight rattling -on the window-pane, as if earth or dust had been -thrown.</p> - -<p>“I knew I was right,” said Loïs. She got out of -bed, slipped on a wrapper, and, bare-footed as she was, -went softly across the room to the window; this she -opened noiselessly and bent forward. What a lovely -autumn morning it was, the air so fresh and full -of vitality! The many-tinted leaves of the creepers -clambering up the house thrust themselves forward, -kissing Loïs’ cheek as if to wish her “good -morrow.”</p> - -<p>It was scarcely three o’clock. A soft white haze -hung like a veil over the land, precursor of a fine -day; but this effectually prevented Loïs distinguishing -any distant object. A few of the great forest -trees had been left standing in the garden, and -their thick foliage cast deep shadows, whilst a hedge -of oleanders screened the house from the high road -leading down to the village. On the other side was -the dark forest, stretching out farther than the eye -could see.</p> - -<p>Still Loïs strained both eyes and ears; some one was -there, she felt sure. To a certain extent she had been -trained by Roger and Charles, when, in the days of -her early girlhood, she had accompanied them on their -forest excursions; her hearing was therefore keen and -her sight penetrating, and she knew now that she was -being watched though she could distinguish no one. -She bent farther out of the casement window and -showed herself. Then from beneath the shrubs, which -grew low down on the ground, she saw the dim outline -of a human face. It was dark, and the black, -straight hair hung about it, whilst the eyes shone forth -like coals of fire. Loïs started, and raised her hand -in token that she was aware of the strange presence; -instantly the dark face disappeared, and Loïs closed the -casement.</p> - -<p>“What can she want? Has she brought a message -from him? Her coming never bodes good!” Even -while uttering these words, she had been hastily -dressing herself; and throwing a dark shawl round -her head and taking her shoes in her hand, she -cautiously opened her door and crept down the stairs. -It was evidently not the first time she had thus -manœuvred. Passing out by the back door, she kept -close up against the house wall until she reached -the corner; there she waited. No one, unless accustomed -to Indian ways, would have heard or seen -anything moving in that garden, and yet before -many seconds had elapsed the figure of a woman -rose up beside her.</p> - -<p>“Nadjii!” said Loïs.</p> - -<p>The woman smiled, and, taking the hand Loïs held -out to her, stroked it gently, as if the softness and the -whiteness pleased her.</p> - -<p>“Is it bad news, Nadjii?” asked Loïs.</p> - -<p>She nodded. Loïs sighed.</p> - -<p>“Come this way,” she said; and skirting round the -house, they came to a sort of shed, used for putting -away garden tools and general rubbish.</p> - -<p>“We shall be quiet here for a time,” said Loïs; -“but it is getting late; you must be quick, Nadjii. -Charles is surely not ill?”</p> - -<p>The Indian shook her head.</p> - -<p>“No, <i>you</i> ill,” she said softly, in broken English; -and then she continued, speaking rapidly, “They -will come; they will kill and burn. Run, run far -away.”</p> - -<p>Every particle of colour left Loïs’ face. “Do you -mean your people are coming down to murder us? -Where is Charles?” she said.</p> - -<p>“Away with the white man on the great sea. Nadjii -follow her own people, to watch for you; he say ‘Go,’ -and Nadjii went. My people angry because your white -brother kill them, and the great Onontio angry. He -escape always, over mountains, rivers; no Indian -catch him.”</p> - -<p>“Are you speaking of Roger?” said Loïs.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” answered the Indian. “Just kill Indians -in wood; Onontio angry, revenge.”</p> - -<p>“But Roger is not here; he is far away. If your -people attack the settlement, thinking to find him -they will be disappointed. When are they coming? -Does Charles know of it?”</p> - -<p>“No, no. They not dare come, if he knew,” said -Nadjii. “I tell you, he with the other white nation. -My people revenge.”</p> - -<p>“And when are they going to attack us?” said Loïs, -trying to speak calmly.</p> - -<p>“To-night,” answered Nadjii.</p> - -<p>“My God!” said Loïs, burying her face in her -hands.</p> - -<p>“No hurt you,” said the Indian gently. “Nadjii -watch over you.”</p> - -<p>“What do I care for myself!” exclaimed Loïs -passionately. “It is my poor mother, the children, -the whole settlement! Oh, how can Charles let -them!” and she wrung her hands.</p> - -<p>“He not know,” said Nadjii. “Great chief sent -for him to help, he go. Indians promise no hurt -you, but Roger kill; Ominipeg angry, they kill -too.”</p> - -<p>“And you say they will attack us to-night?” said -Loïs.</p> - -<p>“Ugh,”<sup>[2]</sup> said Nadjii. “I walk all night to tell you, -brothers other end of forest.”</p> - -<p class='fn'>[Footnote 2: Indian for <i>yes</i>.]</p> - -<p>“But if they miss you they will guess you have -come to warn us, and be angry,” said Loïs.</p> - -<p>Nadjii shook her head; then, looking at Loïs, -she said, “Run, run quickly. My brothers will not -come while the sun shines; they wait till -the <i>gushkewau</i>.”<sup>[3]</sup></p> - -<p class='fn'>[Footnote 3: Indian for <i>darkness</i>.]</p> - -<p>“I will get you some milk and bread,” said Loïs, -ever thoughtful of others even in her sore trouble. -“Where have you left the child?” she added, in a low -voice.</p> - -<p>Nadjii smiled and pointed to the forest.</p> - -<p>“Are you not afraid to leave him so long?” said -Loïs.</p> - -<p>“<i>Æava-yea</i>,” said Nadjii softly, meaning thereby -“lullaby, he is sleeping.”</p> - -<p>Loïs left her and went back into the house, reappearing -with bread and fruit and a can of milk. -She gave them to the Indian, saying,—</p> - -<p>“You are sure they will not come till night?”</p> - -<p>“Kaween, gushkewau,”<sup>[4]</sup> answered Nadjii. “Watch!” -and once more she pointed to the forest.</p> - -<p class='fn'>[Footnote 4: <i>No indeed, darkness.</i>]</p> - -<p>“You will be there?” asked Loïs.</p> - -<p>“Ugh,” said the Indian.</p> - -<p>“Are they many?” asked Loïs.</p> - -<p>Nadjii stooped, picked up a handful of loose gravel, -and let it run slowly through her fingers. If it were -possible, Loïs’ face grew a shade paler.</p> - -<p>“Go now,” she said; “the men on the farm are -beginning to stir; they must not see you. You are -faithful at least, and I thank you;” and stooping, she -kissed the Indian woman.</p> - -<p>A flood of light came into the dark face, the -glow of a great love surging up in this savage -nature.</p> - -<p>“The Great Spirit tell Nadjii die for you -and him!” she said, in a low voice; and before -Loïs could answer she had wrapped the otter skin -she wore round her, and darted away, disappearing -behind the trees and bushes with an incredible swiftness.</p> - -<p>For one second Loïs stood still; then she roused -herself. “There is no time to lose. Shall I rouse -Marcus or Father Nat?” She came forth out of the -shed, and, as she did so, found herself face to face -with Marcus.</p> - -<p>“Loïs, has anything happened?” he asked, looking -anxiously at her pale face.</p> - -<p>“Nadjii has been here,” she answered. “The -Indians are going to attack us to-night.”</p> - -<p>The fear was so constantly present with them all, -that the statement did not elicit even an exclamation -of surprise from Marcus; he only said,—</p> - -<p>“I knew it must come sooner or later. I only wish -you women had accepted William Parkmann’s offer, -and were safe at Boston.”</p> - -<p>“Neither mother nor I would have gone. You -know it, Marcus. More than ever are we bound to -stay by our people.”</p> - -<p>“Well, you must go now; it won’t do for you to be -caught by the redskins. We’ve kept the cattle pretty -close. The best of the herds can be got in easily, and -then we must defend the old place as best we can; but -the first thing to be done is to get the women and -children out of the place. I’ll go and call Father -Nat.”</p> - -<p>The inhabitants of the settlement were beginning -to show signs of life. Cocks crowing, dogs barking, -and the soft lowing of the cattle came gently -up from the valley above which the two homesteads -stood.</p> - -<p>Without further speech the brother and sister parted, -Marcus crossing over to Father Nat, whom he met on -the threshold of his house.</p> - -<p>“Well, lad, what’s brought you over so early?” -asked Nathaniel, taking his pipe from his mouth. -“We’re going to have a fine day. This sort of -weather is good for the land; we shall have a splendid -autumn.”</p> - -<p>“I doubt if there’ll be much left to rejoice over by -this time to-morrow,” answered Marcus. “They’re -coming at last, Father Nat!”</p> - -<p>“Who? The Indians?” exclaimed Nathaniel.</p> - -<p>“Who else should I mean?” said Marcus. “Loïs -has seen Nadjii, Charles’ squaw, and she says they will -be down upon the settlement to-night.”</p> - -<p>There was a moment’s silence; then Nat said, “We -must lose no time; the waggons must be got out, and -the women and children sent off. They’ll be safe before -nightfall at Zanisville. Quick! send one of the men -to John Cleveland, and do you go down to the village, -and give the alarm; but above all things, there must -be no noise—the red men have their spies about, you -may be sure. The women must be got out of the -village quietly, through the valley on the other side,” -and he turned away.</p> - -<p>Loïs had already spoken to her mother, and Father -Nat found Martha standing in the kitchen with the -two younger girls, Marie and Susan, clinging to -her.</p> - -<p>“The waggons will be ready in half an hour,” he -said, “but you must go off on foot to avoid observation. -They will meet you on the other side of the valley -and take you to Zanisville, where you will be in safety. -Quick! make up your bundles and go. The Indians -are coming through the woods; happily, they be still -a good way off.”</p> - -<p>“And you?” said Martha.</p> - -<p>“Forewarned is forearmed,” answered Nathaniel. -“We shall not be attacked in the daytime; we are well -prepared. I hope we may teach these savages a lesson. -It would have been different if they had surprised us. -You need not go farther than Zanisville. We shall be -sending for you as soon as it is safe to do so.”</p> - -<p>“I thought it was decided we were to remain,” said -Loïs.</p> - -<p>“As long as it was safe to keep you,” said Nathaniel. -“Now the care and thought for you would be a -hindrance to us men. I mean to give these savages a -peppering which they shall remember, and you’re best -out of the way. We’ve settled it long ago. We’re -not taken unawares. The women and children will be -escorted by some thirty of our men over the hills; the -waggons will go round to meet you, and take you the -rest of the way: there’ll be no danger then; they’ll be -too busy with us. Don’t make any trouble; it’s got to -be as I say, Loïs.”</p> - -<p>In view of an attack of the Indians, the elders had -arranged that a certain number of men should be told -off to protect the women and screen their retreat. -They had now the advantage of not being surprised, -and having time before them. Some of the women -were very unwilling to go, not believing the rumour—there -had been so many false alarms—but the men -insisted, and soon little groups were seen crossing the -valley and directing their steps through the mountain -gorges towards the spot where the waggons were to be -in waiting. So numerous were the outlets to the -valley, the roads were so zigzag, and the country was -so thickly wooded, that it was easy for the fugitives to -pass out unperceived; besides, the Indians were still -at a great distance, separated from the settlement by -a dense forest.</p> - -<p>By noon the women and children were far on their -way; some had joined company, and on the whole they -were not as depressed as they might have been. In -two or three days they hoped to be recalled. The settlement -they were going to was comparatively at a short -distance, though better protected than the Marshes, -which lay quite on the borderland.</p> - -<p>Nathaniel Boscowen and the men generally were in -good spirits; they had plenty of ammunition and were -prepared. The great danger of these night attacks -was in being surprised, and, thanks to Nadjii, this had -been avoided. Very quietly and without any display -they took their precautions. To all outward appearance -the usual daily life went on: the men drove the -cattle into the meadows, they worked in the fields, -some even fished in the river, and towards evening -they returned to the village, and apparently rested from -their labours, standing smoking and talking outside -their houses, and a few gathered in groups on the -square in front of the church; but a close observer -might have noticed that there was a strained look on -most of the men’s faces, as if they were listening for -some distant sound, and their eyes seemed to turn -instinctively towards the dark forest. In the kitchen -of Omega Marsh sat Father Nat, Marcus, the minister, -and half a dozen of the principal men of the settlement. -At Alpha Marsh lights were lit when night fell, and -for some time figures moved to and fro in the rooms, -so that its uninhabited condition should not be perceptible -from outside.</p> - -<p>The clock had struck nine, when suddenly the -kitchen door opened, and some one entered. There -was no mistaking who it was. Father Nat and Marcus -both rose.</p> - -<p>“Loïs!” they exclaimed together, in a tone of -reproach.</p> - -<p>She went straight up to the elder man, and, laying -her hands on his shoulder, said,—</p> - -<p>“Dear Father Nat, my place is surely beside you and -Marcus. I am the eldest of my race. That my mother -should seek safety in flight for the sake of Marie and -Susie was right. I knew she would not go without -me, so I went; but when we got into the waggons and -she was safely off, I slipped out and came home. She -will probably not miss me for some hours, so she will be -spared all anxiety.”</p> - -<p>“I am sorry you have done this thing, Loïs,” said -Father Nat anxiously.</p> - -<p>“I am not,” said Loïs; “and now give me some -supper. I have had nothing since morning, and it has -been a long tramp.”</p> - -<p>“It has indeed,” said the men present, looking at -her with affectionate pride. They had all known her -from her birth, and loved her almost as well as their -own children, and somehow they were glad to have her -back amongst them.</p> - -<p>“Are you ready?” asked Loïs.</p> - -<p>“Yes, we are quite ready,” answered Father Nat. -Loïs ate the supper they hastened to place before -her, and then told them something of the day’s -journey.</p> - -<p>“We saw no one on the road,” she said; “it seems -difficult to imagine such danger is threatening us.”</p> - -<p>“Nevertheless, I have heard sounds in the forest -which tell me plainly the Indians are not far off,” -said Nathaniel.</p> - -<p>“Now,” said Loïs, rising, “I will lie down and sleep -for an hour; there is yet time.”</p> - -<p>“Do,” said Father Nat, and Loïs went to her own -room and knelt beside her white bed and prayed, as -she had done all the years of her life, from childhood -to womanhood. Then, throwing herself on her bed, she -slept.</p> - - - - -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - -<h2 id='chXIX' title='XIX—THE ATTACK'> - <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER XIX</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.1em'>THE ATTACK</span> -</h2> - - -<p>The lights were extinguished; the inhabitants of -the Marshes were apparently sunk in slumber. It -was near upon midnight, but the moon was shining -so brightly that it seemed almost as if it were daylight.</p> - -<p>Loïs had risen, and, standing in the darkness at a -window of an upper room at Omega Marsh, looking -down into the valley, was almost tempted to think -she must have been mistaken, that her interview with -Nadjii was an evil dream, the scene was so peacefully -lovely. The church spire rose in the midst of the surrounding -houses. She knew every one of them; their -inhabitants had been familiar to her since her childhood, -from the old grandfather to the toddling child -she had helped to carry on the road that morning. -By the light of the moon and stars she saw the outline -of the hills, and farther on the mountain ridges; -whilst the river gleamed here and there as it wound -through the meadows. But what riveted her gaze -was that dark, impenetrable forest. What did it conceal? -She knew full well that all around the garden -men belonging to the village lay on the ground -watching, even as she was watching. Would to God it -might be in vain! but Nadjii had spoken, and Loïs -had implicit confidence in the Indian woman.</p> - -<p>Suddenly, without warning, a loud shout arose. Then -Loïs knew the enemy was at hand, and in the space of a -few seconds the settlement was surrounded. The Indians -poured down into the valley like a flock of locusts. Nat -had issued the order that no man was to stir until the -savages should have passed the boundaries, and then -to fire on them simultaneously. Up towards the -Marshes they swarmed, never doubting that the inhabitants -were sleeping; but they were soon undeceived—a -murderous fire came pouring down upon them. -Shrieks, howls of pain and anger, filled the air, and the -dark figures, with their waving headgears, leapt the -barriers, striking out to the right and left with their -murderous hatchets.</p> - -<p>To Loïs, as she shrank back, it was as if all the devils -of hell had been suddenly let loose. Steadily the -fire continued; but so numerous were the assailants, -that even as they fell others poured in over them, -filling up the gaps. The settlement was surrounded on -all sides. The besieged were not long in perceiving this, -for the triumphant yells of the red men were heard on -every side.</p> - -<p>“They are too many for us, Marcus,” said Father -Nat; “they are murdering our people wholesale down -yonder. Good Heavens! they are setting fire to the -barns; they’ll burn the village down!”</p> - -<p>“I’m afraid they will,” said Marcus. Even whilst -speaking they had not ceased firing. With a score of -other men they were crouching behind the trees in the -garden, just in front of Omega Marsh. Other groups -were scattered here and there, protecting the homestead. -The dead and wounded lay around, but the -assailants still came on, the circle narrowing as they -pressed forward.</p> - -<p>“Where is Loïs?” asked Father Nat.</p> - -<p>“Here,” she answered; and raising her gun, she -fired over his shoulder at an Indian, who had leapt -to within a yard of them.</p> - -<p>“We must back into the house and bar the doors,” -she said; “it is our only chance.”</p> - -<p>“I think she’s right,” said the minister, and slowly -they began to move backwards. A yell of delight from -the savages greeted this retrograde movement, and one -leapt forward, and, raising his tomahawk, would have -brought it down on Father Nat’s head, if a thrust from -a knife had not made the uplifted arm drop helpless, -and with a shriek of agony the man sprang back. At -the same moment Loïs felt herself lifted from the ground -and carried into the house. With a sudden rush the -others followed her. To bolt and bar the doors and -windows of the ground floor was the work of a few -seconds. Some of the men had ascended to the first -story, and were firing from the windows upon the -savages.</p> - -<p>“We can only hold out a certain time,” said -John Cleveland; “and even that depends upon -their being kind enough not to set fire to the -place.”</p> - -<p>It seemed very unlikely that the Indians would -refrain from doing so. The village was burning; -and by the light of the flames the terrible fight -which was going on below and around was clearly -visible.</p> - -<p>It was evident they had some reason for not setting -fire to the homestead, probably the desire of taking -the inhabitants alive for the purpose of torturing -them “Father Nat” more especially, their anger being -directed against Roger. The house was strongly built, -the doors and windows secured by heavy iron bars, and -so far the savages had been kept at bay by the -incessant firing of the beleaguered. Suddenly they -appeared to retreat, making a rush round to the back -of the house. At the same moment Nadjii stood by -the side of Loïs.</p> - -<p>“See!” she whispered. “Roger;” and even as -she spoke, running swiftly up the hill with shouts of -“Hurrah, hurrah!” they saw the well-known red shirts -of the Rangers.</p> - -<p>“Saved,” said Father Nat, turning round quickly. -“My brave lad!” He had hardly uttered the words -when he was felled to the earth, and the room was -filled with savages, yelling, hewing to the right hand -and to the left. The settlers were grouped together -in a corner of the room, keeping the savages at bay -with their guns and rifles.</p> - -<p>The last thing Loïs saw was Nadjii, who, thrusting -her behind her, with blood flowing down her own -half-naked body, held aloft a glittering steel knife -stained with gore.</p> - -<p>The sun rose upon a scene of utter devastation. -The village of Marshwood lay in ruins; upwards of one -hundred men had been killed, or, worse still, were -missing.</p> - -<p>Almost the only house which stood uninjured was -Alpha Marsh; evidently the Indians had their reasons -for respecting it. Their own loss was immense. The -sudden appearance of the Rangers had been totally -unexpected. When the savages had forced an entrance -at the back and had swarmed into the house, -Roger and his men took them in the rear and cut -them to pieces, at the same time as they were being -fired on by the besieged; retreat was therefore impossible, -and they perished to a man. A few threw themselves -out of the windows in the hope of escaping, -but were either killed in the fall or bayoneted by -their opponents stationed below; the same thing went -on throughout the village. In less than an hour -after the Rangers appeared, the Indians were swept -away, leaving their dead and wounded to the mercy -of the conquerors.</p> - -<p>Of the group of men who had defended Omega -Marsh only a few escaped unwounded. When the fight -was at an end, and Roger forced his way over the dead -into the room where the besieged had taken refuge, -an awful sight met his eyes. Father Nat lay apparently -killed, Loïs was close beside him senseless, and -almost covering them with her naked body, gashed -with wounds, lay Nadjii.</p> - -<p>The scene was one of indescribable horror. For -a second Roger’s spirit failed him. The survivors, -faint and exhausted, hardly believing they were saved, -still stood with their weapons in their hands. Marcus, -badly wounded himself, was striving to get at Loïs, -but the Indian woman’s body had to be moved first, -and he had no strength left. Stern and agonised was -Roger’s face, as John Cleveland, clasping his hand, -said, with a sob in his voice,—</p> - -<p>“He knew you had come to the rescue. A minute -sooner and you would have saved him.”</p> - -<p>“Are you sure he is dead?” said Roger, in a hoarse -voice, as he helped Marcus to move Nadjii and Loïs; -and then he raised his father in his arms. Apparently -dead he certainly was; but the face was so swollen and -disfigured by a ghastly wound on the forehead that it -was impossible to say positively.</p> - -<p>“He and the women had better be carried over to -Alpha Marsh,” he said; “the flames are spreading -below. I must go and help my men.”</p> - -<p>At that moment Loïs opened her eyes, and consciousness -came back to her immediately. She sat up and -looked around.</p> - -<p>“Oh, Roger!” she exclaimed; and for the first -time for years he did not turn away from her, but -asked,—</p> - -<p>“Are you hurt, Loïs?”</p> - -<p>She tried to rise. John Cleveland gave her his hand.</p> - -<p>“No,” she answered, “I think not; it is their -blood,” and she shivered, pointing to her blood-stained -garments.</p> - -<p>“Alpha Marsh is uninjured; we are going to carry -Father Nat there.”</p> - -<p>“And she?” said Loïs, looking down at Nadjii.</p> - -<p>“If you wish it,” answered Roger, turning away.</p> - -<p>And so Nathaniel was laid in the best chamber of -Alpha Marsh, and Nadjii in Loïs’ own bedroom.</p> - -<p>Nokomis, the Huron woman who had served -Nathaniel ever since he rescued her from another -tribe of Indians, who had slain her son and her -husband, came out of hiding, and with a few other -women, some old, some sick, who had refused to leave -the settlement, set to work to tend the wounded.</p> - -<p>“He no dead, she no dead,” said Nokomis, after -washing the blood from Father Nat’s head and body, -and, with Loïs’ help, performing the same office for -Nadjii. “But,” she added, shaking her head, “they -both die; no meda<sup>[5]</sup> save her.”</p> - -<p class='fn'>[Footnote 5: Medicine-man.]</p> - -<p>“But you are as good as a meda,” said Lois. “You -know of herbs and salves, Nokomis; you must try what -you can do.”</p> - -<p>“For my Nosa<sup>[6]</sup> perhaps,” she said, as she bound -up the ghastly wound which had lain Father Nat’s -head open; “but for the Nadjii, she dead;” and yet -as Loïs bent over the dark face, and held a feather -to her lips, she knew that Nadjii still lived.</p> - -<p class='fn'>[Footnote 6: Master.]</p> - -<p>“Oh, Nokomis,” she said, tears running down her -face, “she tried to save us all; if I am living it is -because she stood between me and death. She has -a brave heart.”</p> - -<p>“She is a chief’s daughter,” answered Nokomis, with -certain dignity; “but she must die; her hour is come.”</p> - -<p>Suddenly a thought struck Loïs; her pale face -flushed.</p> - -<p>The child—where had Nadjii left the child?</p> - - - - -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - -<h2 id='chXX' title='XX—“LIGHTEN OUR DARKNESS.”'> - <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER XX</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.1em'>“LIGHTEN OUR DARKNESS.”</span> -</h2> - - -<p>“How did you know they were coming against us?” -said Minister Cleveland. “We heard a fortnight -ago that you were up on the shores of Lake Champlain.”</p> - -<p>“I was not far from there,” answered Roger. “We -have had a hard time of it lately, harassed on all sides -by the French, the Canadians, and Indians. I had -drawn my men off, to give them a few days’ rest; for in -our last skirmish we had lost several men, and others -had been wounded. I was lying half-asleep and half-awake -at the foot of a tree one night, when I became -conscious of some one creeping round from behind. In -a second I was on foot, and at the same moment an -Indian youth rose up before me. I seized him, and -knew at once he was an Iroquois. I had seen him -before; he was Nadjii’s half-brother.</p> - -<p>“‘What are you doing here?’ I asked.</p> - -<p>“‘Nadjii tell me come,’ he answered, in his native dialect. ‘Find the -“Brave Heart,”’ she said, ‘and tell him to be near the old Nosa before the -moon is at its full.’</p> - -<p>“‘There’s mischief brewing against the Marshes -then?’ I asked.</p> - -<p>“‘I do not know; Nadjii say come,’ he answered.</p> - -<p>“‘Where is she? and where is the white chief, her -husband?’ I asked.</p> - -<p>“‘Nadjii watch the white maiden. The white chief -with the white men up at the City on the Rock.’</p> - -<p>“Then I knew that Charles was with General Montcalm, -and that a tribe, probably the one I had escaped -from, was about to attack the Marshes out of revenge.</p> - -<p>“‘It is well,’ I answered. ‘You stay with me. If -you speak truly, good; if you deceive us——’ and I -made a well-known sign of punishment. He only -smiled, and sat down on the ground in token of -consent.</p> - -<p>“An hour later we were on our way; but it is a long -journey, and we had to keep clear of the Indians. The -nearer we got to Marshwood, the more we became -aware of their presence. We had to take a circuitous -path, which delayed us and made us late.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said the minister; “but for that poor -creature dying upstairs, we should all of us have been -murdered in cold blood.”</p> - -<p>This conversation had taken place in Alpha kitchen, -where, late at night, the two men found themselves -alone for the first time: the call upon both of them -from within and without had been incessant. They -had not only to attend to the living, but had to arrange -for the removal of the dead bodies of the killed—no -light task.</p> - -<p>Father Nat had shown unmistakable signs of life, but -was still insensible. A messenger had been despatched -to the nearest town for a doctor, and was expected to -return next day; in the meanwhile Nokomis had brewed -herbs, and, with Loïs, done what she could for the -sufferers. Now Loïs was watching beside Nadjii. It -was midnight, and still they had no news of the child. -Where had the mother hidden it when she came to -the rescue? With Marcus’ help Loïs had searched -the house and outhouses, and assured herself it -was not there. It lay probably in the forest in the -trunk of some tree.</p> - -<p>Evidently having become possessed of the secret of -the tribe, Nadjii had travelled alone with her child -through the forest, crossing rivers and rapids as only -an Indian woman could, to reach the Marshes in time -and warn the inmates. On the night of the attack she -must have lain the child to sleep in some hidden place; -but where? It would surely die if its mother could -not tell.</p> - -<p>Nadjii was wounded unto death, and Loïs knew it; -a few hours at most and she would cease to live, carrying -her secret away with her, and her child’s hope of -life! Loïs, as she knelt beside Nadjii, seemed to hear -the wailing of the infant, the helpless cry for mother’s -milk and mother’s kisses. “O Father, have mercy on -the innocent babe,” she prayed; “let it not die this -terrible death! My poor Nadjii has been faithful and -true, and has laid down her life for her husband’s -people, moved by the great love she bears him.”</p> - -<p>Truly love, the great purifier, entering this poor -heathen’s heart, had taught her many things, lightening -her darkness! To her, though she knew it not, -had been revealed the primary laws of love, obedience, -and self-sacrifice! Her husband had bidden her watch -over Loïs and his mother, and report to him if harm -threatened them; and she had done what she could—she -had laid down her life for them. All these -thoughts crowded through Loïs’ mind as she knelt -and prayed. She had all the early Puritan’s faith in -prayer. No conflicting doubts troubled her. God -would surely hear her!</p> - -<p>“Spare the child, O God!” she repeated again and -yet again, her clasped hands stretched out over the -body of the dying mother. Her eyes were closed, her -pale face raised, she was as one wrestling with God. -Suddenly a word fell on her ear, “<i>Nenemoosha</i>.”<sup>[7]</sup> -She turned quickly and looked at the Indian woman. -Her eyes were open, and from out the swollen lips -came in a voice almost inaudible the same word -repeated, “Nenemoosha.” Tears sprang to Loïs’ eyes. -She understood the meaning; and, bending over -Nadjii, said, “Tell me where he is and I will fetch -him.” The answer came, but in quick Indian words; -and though Loïs understood a few, she could not follow -her.</p> - -<p class='fn'>[Footnote 7: Sweetheart.]</p> - -<p>“Wait! I will fetch some one,” she said; but before -leaving Nadjii she gave her a cordial and damped the -cloth that was bound round her head, whispering, -“Never fear, Nadjii; we will find Nenemoosha.” Then -she left her, smiling back at her as she went, though her -heart was very sore. She had thought to fetch Nokomis, -but the old Indian had been called away from Father -Nat’s bedside to tend another wounded man, and had -left an ancient village crone in charge. Hastily Loïs ran -into the kitchen, where John Cleveland the minister -and Roger were together.</p> - -<p>“Roger,” said Loïs, going up to him, “Nadjii, the -squaw, has spoken, but I cannot understand her; you -must come. She left her and his child somewhere in -the forest when she came to our rescue. You must -go for it. Come!”</p> - -<p>Roger started back from her, anger flashing from -his eyes.</p> - -<p>“A child of such a brood! Better let it die, Loïs. -Would you nurture a viper in your bosom?” he said.</p> - -<p>“It is my brother’s child, and its mother is dying -for me!” said Loïs passionately, and she burst into -tears.</p> - -<p>A great struggle was visible in the hunter’s face. He -hated this Indian woman, who, to his mind, had helped -to decoy his friend. Why should he save her child?</p> - -<p>“She is dying; fetch the child for her, Roger, and -then I will depart with it, and you shall see our faces -no more!” and Loïs threw herself on her knees before -him. “By our old love,” she murmured. He turned -away and strode up to the room where he knew they -had laid Nadjii. Loïs and the minister followed.</p> - -<p>All the soul of the dying woman was reflected in -her eyes. When she saw Roger she strove to lift -herself, but Loïs sprang to her side and laid her hand -upon her, saying,—</p> - -<p>“Tell him where to find Nenemoosha. He will go -for him,” she said.</p> - -<p>Nadjii lay motionless, wounded from head to foot, -tortured with awakening agony.</p> - -<p>Loïs moistened her lips, and smiled down on her -dark sister as an angel might.</p> - -<p>Then Nadjii spoke, quickly, gaspingly, looking at -Roger. When she ceased, he bowed his head and left -the room.</p> - -<p>“Shall you be able to find it?” asked the minister.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” answered Roger. “She has hidden it in -the trunk of a tree about a mile distant, and she has -marked the trees leading to the one where the child -lies by an arrow cut in the bark; if it be still there I -shall find it;” and he strode out of the house.</p> - -<p>In less than an hour he came back, but his arms -were empty.</p> - -<p>“They have stolen it,” he said to Loïs, who met him. -“She had made a bed of leaves for it, and I saw where -it had been; but I also saw the track of a man’s foot -round the tree, and the hands of a man had touched -the child’s resting-place. It is gone.”</p> - -<p>“What shall I say to her?” said Loïs, wringing her -hands and weeping.</p> - -<p>“You will not need to say anything,” answered the -minister; “she is even now passing away. Come.”</p> - -<p>They re-entered the room, and truly they knew that -death was there before them. The veil was slowly being -drawn across things earthly for the poor Indian woman; -her eyes were already dim, her senses failing. The -minister knelt down and prayed that the departing soul -might awaken in another world to new knowledge and -new light; and even as he prayed the answer came. A -flash of light shot from Nadjii’s eyes, and a cry went up -from her lips, “Jesus! Nenemoosha!” and she looked -straight before her, as if she saw a vision; and so -looking, the light died out of her face, and Nadjii -slept.</p> - - - - -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - -<h2 id='chXXI' title='XXI—AT THE HELM'> - <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER XXI</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.1em'>AT THE HELM</span> -</h2> - - -<p>After his repulse from Ticonderoga, General Abercromby -made no marked effort to retrieve his -position; his troops were disheartened, and fearing -another attack by the French, he hastened to retire -down Lake St. George, and to protect himself in an -intrenched camp. In October, after the taking of -Louisburg, General Amherst joined him; but it was -then too late in the year to renew active service. -Montcalm with his army withdrew for the winter to -Montreal, and the English returned to Albany.</p> - -<p>The English were, however, slowly gaining ground. -Fort Duquesne, after immense labour and many hardships, -was wrested by Brigadier-General Forbes from -the French, and re-baptised, in honour of the great -statesman, Pittsburg. Fort Frontenac was also captured, -and this was more especially important as it -gave the English a footing on Lake Ontario. And so -the year 1758 came to a close, and the nations knew, -both at home and abroad, that the great contest was -likely to be fought out during the ensuing year; but -whilst the land lay under its white covering of snow, -with ice-bound rivers, there was peace, or rather a -cessation of hostilities, and the leaders at home and -abroad looked around to see who were the men most -fitted to place at the helm.</p> - -<p>Pitt had for some time past had his eye on a man -who had already distinguished himself at the siege of -Louisburg, James Wolfe. After the taking of that -fortress he had desired to push on at once to Quebec; -but he was overruled by the other generals, and a far -more disagreeable task was allotted to him. It was -considered necessary to destroy all the French settlements -on the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and he was deputed -to carry out the order.</p> - -<p>It is difficult for us now to realise the extent of -misery this decision entailed; certainly it was more especially -repugnant to a sensitive, humane nature such as -Wolfe’s. It meant laying waste hundreds of pleasant -homesteads, driving their inhabitants forth shelterless! -The wailing of women and children, the low, -bitter curses of the men—all this had to be borne -with apparent stoicism. Always delicate, already suffering -from the disease to which he was to succumb, -Wolfe’s health entirely broke down under the severe -mental and moral strain, and it was found necessary to -grant him a prolonged leave of absence. He immediately -set sail for England, hoping in the quiet of his -home and his much-loved mother’s society to recruit -his shattered health. His was a peculiar nature, a -strange mixture of tenderness and passion; loving -and sensitive beyond measure, yet at times strangely -fierce and stern. His mother was wont to say he was -a living barometer, his spirits rising and falling with -every change of weather.</p> - -<p>With such a character it was hardly possible for him -to have been what we generally term a happy man; -there were too many contradictions in his nature. -When still quite young he either was, or imagined -himself to be, in love; the result was a bitter disappointment, -and for some time afterwards he plunged -into a life of dissipation. At the early age of twenty-three -he was already lieutenant-colonel (he had entered -the army at fourteen), and was sent in garrison -to Inverness. Here he remained five years, a great -favourite with both his men and fellow-officers, but so -entirely isolated from society that, as he expressed it -himself, “He feared lest he should become a ruffian.” -Once more he went to the other extreme, like a pendulum, -and for six months took up his residence in -Paris, devoting himself to the study of the French -language and to the acquirement of every social accomplishment.</p> - -<p>He was, we are told by those who knew him most -intimately, possessed of only moderate abilities; but his -diligence and perseverance were so remarkable that he -accomplished anything he set his heart upon. Effeminacy -was hateful to him; he was essentially a high-principled -man, with a strong sense of duty, ever faithful -to his ideal of what a true soldier ought to be—“always -ready to meet the fate we cannot shun, and die gracefully -when my hour comes,” he said on one occasion, and -truly he carried this axiom out through life unto -death!</p> - -<p>In personal appearance he might almost have been -considered an ugly man. He had a retreating forehead -and chin; his nose was upturned, and formed with -other features the point of an obtuse triangle. His -mouth was by no means shaped to express resolution. -The redeeming point in his face was his eyes; they were -clear, bright, and piercing, full of spirit. His hair was -red, and, according to the custom of the time, tied in -a queue, and he always wore a black three-cornered -hat. His physique denoted less than ordinary strength. -He is represented with narrow shoulders, slender body, -long thin limbs cased in scarlet frock-coat with broad -cuffs and ample skirts, which reached down to his -knees. Such was the outward seeming and character -of the man who played so conspicuous a part in a war -which ultimately gave to England one of her richest -and most loyal colonies.</p> - -<p>It was with a sense of relief that after the capture of -Louisburg Wolfe set sail for England. His experiences -of the last few months had impressed him so painfully -that he hoped never to return to Canada. He had strong -domestic tastes, his affection for his mother was the -dominant passion of his life, and he had been but a few -weeks in England when he proposed to and was accepted -by a Miss Lowther; and so life seemed to be dawning -for him in roseate hues. He was only thirty-three -years of age, and was beloved both at home and abroad; -his delicate health was the only shadow on his horizon, -but it was hoped that perfect rest and good nursing -would restore that. Therefore, throughout that winter -Wolfe remained at home, perfectly happy, ignoring -the fact that William Pitt’s eagle eye had already -marked him out, and that his name was destined to be -handed down to posterity among those men who have -deserved well of their country.</p> - -<p>But, whilst physically Wolfe was being thus -strengthened for the fray, his great opponent was -losing heart. Throughout that winter Montcalm -recognised more than ever the many discordant -elements by which he was surrounded.</p> - -<p>The Governor’s jealousy had increased; he took every -opportunity in his power for disparaging Montcalm, -even going the length of demanding from the Court -at Versailles that he should be recalled. But indifferent -as the French king and his ministers were to the real -interests of Canada, they were still sufficiently clear-sighted -to know that General Montcalm was the right -man in the right place, and to a certain extent to -appreciate the services he had rendered the state. -They therefore raised his rank to that of lieutenant-general, -as also his officers Bourlamaque and Levis, -who were made colonel and major-general.</p> - -<p>But in his own heart Montcalm knew that when -the Forts of Niagara, Crown Point, and Duquesne fell -into the hands of the English, the end could not be -far off. Little by little he was becoming isolated and -cut off on the St. Lawrence, the British holding the -command of the seas. He was possessed, however, -of great military genius, and displayed to the last -extraordinary skill in defending the French possessions.</p> - -<p>During the winter the social life at Montreal was -wholly in contradiction to the General’s feelings, so that -he withdrew himself entirely from society, remaining in -his own quarters, occupied with combining plans for the -spring campaign, which he foresaw would decide the -fate of Canada. This conduct was of itself a cause of -complaint against him, being a reproach to Bigot and -his associates, in whose palace at Quebec every night -high revelry reigned. Supper parties, dances, and -masquerades were of nightly occurrence; and worse -still, gambling was carried to such a pitch that the -results had in many cases to be hushed up.</p> - -<p>Mercèdes lived in her rooms at the Intendance, -ignorant of what was going on below. Like her father, -retiring more and more from public life, seldom seen -except on her way to church or on her visits to the poor, -without knowing it she was a sort of hostage for her -father. Probably she would not have been allowed to -remain so entirely in the background but for Madame -Péan’s open protection. That lady reigned supreme in -the gay world at Quebec, and she would not suffer -her protégée to be annoyed. “She is in my charge; -she shall not be molested,” she was wont to say when -it was hinted by the government officials that it -would strengthen their arguments against Montcalm -if his daughter could be persuaded to join in their -revelries.</p> - -<p>“It is quite useless,” Madame Péan declared; “she -would not understand our ways. You would scare her -quite away.”</p> - -<p>But one night the revelry had attained even wilder -proportions than usual. A sumptuous supper succeeded -a masquerade ball. Towards morning the guests dispersed, -and only about twenty intimates remained. -Some one suddenly said,—</p> - -<p>“What a joke it would be if we were to surprise -Monsieur de Vaudreuil and General Montcalm at -Montreal!”</p> - -<p>There was a general laugh.</p> - -<p>“Why not do so?” said Intendant Bigot. “We -could be there in three days’ sleighing. If it would -afford the ladies any pleasure, they have but to command. -I am their humble servant.”</p> - -<p>“It would cost a fortune,” said Madame Péan.</p> - -<p>“You are growing economical, my dear,” retorted -Madame Marin; “there is the king’s exchequer! I vote -we do it, and we will take Mademoiselle Mercèdes with -us to see her father. This gentle attention will soften -the old bear, and he will not have the heart to reproach -us. What do you say to my plan, Monsieur -Bigot?”</p> - -<p>“Only what I said before, that if you ladies wish -it we will start at midday, reach Pointe-aux-Trembles -in time for supper, sleep there, and go on the next -day to St. Anne. Our next halt might be at the -Isle des Castors, where Rigaud would entertain us, and -finally Montreal. If you will decide at once, I will -despatch couriers to have everything in readiness. -What are <i>your</i> wishes, Madame?” he added, addressing -himself to Madame Péan, whose beauty and accomplishments -always ensured her the first place in every -project for the general amusement.</p> - -<p>“I am willing,” she said carelessly.</p> - -<p>“And you will persuade Mademoiselle Mercèdes -to join us?” insisted Madame Marin.</p> - -<p>“If she knows she is likely to see her father she -will not refuse,” answered Madame Péan. “She will -go in my sleigh.”</p> - -<p>“I wish you joy!” said one of her lady friends. -“What you see in that little dull thing, to have her -always about with you, is more than I can imagine. -Why, I saw you out sleighing with her and that Indian -hunter, Charles Langlade, last week, near the village -of Beauport. Are you trying to make a match of -it?”</p> - -<p>“I wish I could,” answered Madame Péan; “but -you know as well as I do he has his Indian squaw. -Now, good-night, or rather good-morning; I am off -to get a few hours’ sleep.”</p> - -<p>There was a general leave-taking, and it was agreed -they should all meet at midday on the morrow; and -so the ladies retired, but the gentlemen remained in -consultation as to ways and means.</p> - -<p>“I intend it to be a grand affair,” said Bigot -ostentatiously. “We will spare no expense, eh, Marin?”</p> - -<p>“Certainly not! Why should we? It is necessary -for the good of the country. You require to see Vaudreuil; De Martet and Varin have to look after the -army and navy supplies. We are going on the king’s -service, therefore the king must pay. Long live the -King!”</p> - -<p>“Long live our Gracious Master the King!” they -all shouted in high spirits, and forthwith began -arranging for the projected excursion. The light of -the dim November morning was slowly creeping into -the palace when they separated to snatch a brief repose.</p> - - - - -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - -<h2 id='chXXII' title='XXII—HOME NEWS'> - <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER XXII</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.1em'>HOME NEWS</span> -</h2> - - -<p>“Go to Montreal and see my dear father? You do -not really mean it!” exclaimed Mercèdes, clapping -her hands in sheer childish delight.</p> - -<p>“Indeed I do. We are starting in a few hours,” said -Madame Pèan, smiling. “Can you be ready?”</p> - -<p>“Ready? I should think so indeed! I have nothing -to do,” said Mercèdes. “I suppose Marthe will stay -here. You will not mind being alone for a few days, -shall you?” she said, turning to her nurse.</p> - -<p>“No, Mademoiselle, assuredly not. Go and amuse -yourself; your life is dull enough, and yet the -General——”</p> - -<p>“Oh, Marthe!” interrupted Mercèdes reproachfully. -“Do you think I would care to go if it were -not to see my father, and perhaps have news of the -dear ones at Candiac? It is so long since I heard -from them.”</p> - -<p>“Of course, of course,” said Madame Péan. “I will -take good care of her, Marthe; and only think how -delighted the General will be to see his daughter.”</p> - -<p>“I hope the General will be satisfied,” answered -Marthe doubtfully; “but he particularly desired I -should never leave Mademoiselle, and you know he -does not approve——”</p> - -<p>“That is enough, Marthe; I will take all responsibility -on myself; and, after all, Mademoiselle is in my -charge, and you know, I think, by this time, that I love -her dearly.” Then turning to Mercèdes, Madame Péan -continued, “You will be ready by twelve o’clock, dearest. -Mind you have plenty of furs and wraps of all sorts. It -is freezing hard; it is grand weather. Fancy sleighing -from Quebec to Montreal! It will be something to say -one has accomplished such a feat! Now, good-bye; -come down to my rooms when you are ready. Adieu, -Marthe. You need not be anxious about your nursling.” -And she left them.</p> - -<p>Two years and a half had elapsed since Mercèdes -first set foot in Canada, and from a mere girl she had -developed into a woman. She was small and slender, -and still looked very young; indeed, though she was -now eighteen years of age, she was but little altered. -She had more colour, and was healthier in appearance, -which, with her bright dark eyes and soft smile, made -her almost good-looking. She and Marthe had settled -down to their quiet way of living, and by degrees had -been nearly forgotten by the outside world. The -General had ceased to worry about her, and was only -too glad when he visited Quebec, which he did not -do sometimes for several months at a time, to find -Mercèdes, with her ready sympathy and warm affection. -It was the only real relaxation he knew of; and many a -happy hour was passed in those little rooms overlooking -the convent. By degrees they had come to -a sort of tacit agreement that she should not enter the -convent until the war was ended. If the truth must -be told, Mercèdes experienced a sense of relief when -this was decided; she had grown to love Canada, for -the defence of which her father was giving the best -years of his life, and all the genius with which nature -had endowed him.</p> - -<p>She had made many excursions in the neighbourhood -of Quebec, sometimes in company with Madame Péan, -sometimes alone with Marthe, and was never tired of -admiring the lovely scenery. The village of Beauport, -with its whitewashed dwellings, situated on the curving -shore of the river St. Charles, and stretching down to -the rocky gorge of Montmorenci, charmed her. The -fields on either side were studded with huts and Indian -wigwams. In the short summer and early autumn -the varied colour of the trees lent great brilliancy to -the landscape. The hills, which had shrunk almost out -of sight on one hand, looking like a long purple line -against the horizon, drew suddenly so near the shore -that at one point they seemed to rise almost out of the -water.</p> - -<p>In the winter the scene was changed, but she -loved it still; the joyous sleigh bells, making music -as the sleighing parties flew through the villages and -hamlets lying beneath their snowy shroud, filled the -girl’s heart with gladness, and she realised to the full -the joy of living. And so time had passed quickly with -her, and she had been happy, with the quiet, unreasoning -happiness of the young, to whom the past has brought -little sadness, and upon whom the future smiles with -all the enchanting fascination of unbounded hope. -And then Mercèdes was not given to anticipate -trouble. Her strong religious sentiments gave her a -calm faith which never deserted her, and next to God -she believed in her father. The struggle might be -long, might be difficult, but assuredly he would come -forth a conqueror.</p> - -<p>It was with feelings of unmitigated delight that she -prepared for her journey; but her astonishment was -great when she became aware of the proportions the -party had assumed. When the hour for their departure -came, no less than twenty sleighs were drawn up along -the length of the street. Crowds gathered to see them -start; but amidst the general laughter and mirth some -bitter speeches were overheard, such as, “The Intendant, -M. Bigot, was going to Montreal to see the Governor -and the General. It was a strange necessity that he -must needs have such a goodly company of ladies and -gentlemen to escort him.”</p> - -<p>But when M. Bigot appeared with Mercèdes and -Madame Péan, there was a respectful silence. It was -the great General’s daughter he was conducting; of -course it must be all right. Thus the effect he had -anticipated was attained; and he took his place beside -the ladies in high spirits, bowing and smiling on the -people, addressing one or two by name, and thus by -word and manner propitiating them; so that he drove off -with the good wishes of those who at first had seemed -hostile, and to the friendly cry of “Bon voyage.”</p> - -<p>The three days’ journey resembled a royal progress. -Couriers had been sent on in advance, and at each -resting-place the most elaborate preparations had been -made for the reception of the company. Mercèdes -was bewildered. She was the object of the most -marked attention; she had never been so surrounded, -so courted in her life. When they reached Montreal, -almost the whole population turned out to see them; -but from amidst the crowd murmurs of discontent -were rife at such unnecessary display on the part of -the Government, when the people were oppressed by -taxes, and the most ordinary articles of daily consumption -were at famine prices. Anger, and even -threats, were not lacking. Mercèdes was startled by -the cold severity of her father’s manner when he -became aware of her presence.</p> - -<p>“You here, Mercèdes!” he said, as she threw her -arms round his neck.</p> - -<p>“Yes, father. Are you not glad to see me?” she -answered, tears filling her eyes.</p> - -<p>“I am glad to see you, my child, but not under -present circumstances,” he answered. “You should -not have left Quebec without my permission. In the -present state of Canada it is a disgrace to the Government -to incur such unnecessary expenses, and it is not -well that my daughter should be mixed up with such -dissipation. I shall not allow you to join in the gaieties -which are probably about to take place. As soon as I -can find an escort to take you back to Quebec you will -return thither; but not to Madame Péan’s house. You -will enter the Ursulines, and commence your novitiate -at once. I have temporised too long. Whatever -happens, you will be safer there.”</p> - -<p>He conducted her straight to the apartment he -occupied. His annoyance was very great. He perfectly -understood that Mercèdes had been used as a tool by -his enemies, to give the appearance of his sanction to -what was wanton extravagance and display.</p> - -<p>That night there was a grand ball, followed by a -sumptuous supper, at the Government House, but -neither Montcalm nor his daughter was present. For -the first time he explained the difficulties of his position -to Mercèdes, and she responded, showing herself intelligent, -and capable of understanding the annoyances to -which he was daily subject.</p> - -<p>“I am sorry I came, dear father,” she said; “but I -only thought of the pleasure of seeing you, and the -journey with Madame Péan seemed such a simple -thing, that I attached no importance to it. For myself, -I am such an insignificant little personage; I forgot I -was your daughter!”</p> - -<p>He smiled. “We will say no more about it, my -child. Do not doubt for one moment that it is a great -delight to have you with me, even for a few days, -especially as indirectly I have had news from Candiac. -Your brother the Count is betrothed to an heiress, and -will be married shortly; and your eldest sister is already -Madame d’Espineuse. You know that has been an -attachment of long standing; it is a great pleasure to -me to think of her happiness.”</p> - -<p>“I am indeed glad!” said Mercèdes. “Dear Louise! -This good account of the family ought to cheer you, -father. Soon, very soon perhaps, you will join them,” -and a sigh escaped her.</p> - -<p>Her father heard it, and, putting his arm round her, -kissed her affectionately. “If I return to my dear -Candiac, Mercèdes, I shall certainly not leave you -behind. Had you taken the veil immediately upon -your arrival in Canada, the case would have been -different: you would have become accustomed to your -life; but now you would feel yourself forsaken—besides, -it is too late. The war must come to a close before -next autumn, and you will not then have completed -your novitiate: therefore your residence at the Ursulines -can only be temporary; but I think it decidedly -safer for you to take refuge there at once. What does -my daughter say?”</p> - -<p>“That you are quite right; and, besides, you have -brought your children up to obey, and not reason, -father. As soon as I return to Quebec I will enter the -convent. I am no stranger there; the good sisters -know me; and from my window I have looked down -for months past into the convent gardens, feeling -always that my home was there.”</p> - -<p>“I am glad you are content,” answered her father. -“I have blamed myself for leaving you so long in the -world, fearing it might have taken hold of you and -robbed you of your peace of mind.”</p> - -<p>She coloured slightly. “I am satisfied,” she said, -“to do what you think best, father.”</p> - -<p>At that moment there was a knock at the door, -and the General’s servant entered and handed his -master a slip of folded paper. It was from Charles -Langlade, requesting an interview with the General.</p> - - - - -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - -<h2 id='chXXIII' title='XXIII—A CONFESSION'> - <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER XXIII</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.1em'>A CONFESSION</span> -</h2> - - -<p>“Certainly, tell Monsieur Langlade I shall be -most happy to receive him,” said the General; -and turning to his daughter, he added, “You will be -glad to see your old friend. He has done me good -service: at Ticonderoga he conducted several scouting -parties; now he is in the neighbourhood of Montreal. -I always feel that I have some one I can depend upon -when he is near. I shall never understand how he -came to join the Indians. Love of freedom, I suppose.”</p> - -<p>He had scarcely finished speaking when the door -opened and Charles Langlade entered. Mercèdes was -sitting in the shadow, so that he did not see her immediately, -but she noticed at once that a great change -had come over him. There was a look of pain—even -more than pain, of great sorrow—in his face. The -General was also quick to see that something was -wrong; and, holding out his hand to welcome him, -as if moved by some instinct, he asked,—</p> - -<p>“What has happened?”</p> - -<p>“Ah! you see it!” answered the young man, drawing -his brows together and compressing his lips. “My -mother told me I should repent of my self-will, and -now I am truly punished. God has humbled me. My -people are slain and the home of my fathers is in -ruins.”</p> - -<p>“I suppose you mean the Indians have made a raid -on the Marsh settlement and destroyed it?” said the -General.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” answered Charles sadly. “I am given to -understand that a tribe of the Iroquois attacked the -Marshes. I believe it is the same tribe which has -been following up my old friend Roger the Ranger, -and from which he twice escaped. They were fearfully -irritated against him, and of course in my position I -could not interfere to protect him; but the Marshes -they knew to be my home, and it was an understood -thing they were to respect them. I suppose they were, -as usual, carried away by their desire for vengeance. -The man who brought me the news says most of the -women and children escaped; but the men have perished -or been taken prisoners, which is worse, and the village -was in flames when he left. He has been stopped on -the road by illness, or I should have known this a month -ago. It appears that at the last moment some one, I -do not know who, warned those at the Marshes that an -attack was meditated, and so to a certain extent they were -prepared; as I said, the women and children were got -rid of, and the men defended themselves to the death. -Some must have escaped, but my informant was unable -to tell me who they were.” And having spoken, he -stood with his head bent and his eyes fixed on the -ground, with all the appearance of a man who has lost -heart.</p> - -<p>“It is indeed a terrible misfortune,” said the General; -“but, who knows? perhaps you have heard an exaggerated -account. Come and sit down. We are just going -to supper; stay and have it with us. You have not -noticed my daughter; she came with Bigot and Co. -from Quebec to-day. You may imagine I am not -best pleased.”</p> - -<p>On hearing of Mercèdes’ presence, Charles looked up, -and a light came into his eyes; and going up to her, -he said quietly,—</p> - -<p>“This is unexpected; it does me good, if anything -can do me good.”</p> - -<p>“I am so sorry for you,” said Mercèdes, holding out -her hand. “Won’t you sit down and tell us more -about it? Surely you will cease to live with the -Indians now, and return to your own people.”</p> - -<p>“Alas! I cannot,” answered Charles; “I am bound -to them.” He hesitated. “I married Ominipeg’s -daughter. I have a squaw wife.”</p> - -<p>If any one had observed her closely they would have -seen Mercèdes’ cheek pale for a second—only for a -second; it was her father who answered.</p> - -<p>“It seems incredible,” he said; “how came you to -commit such an act of folly?”</p> - -<p>“As early as I can remember,” said Charles thoughtfully, -“my father took me with him on his hunting -expeditions. He was very popular with the Indians, -delighted in sport of every kind; and I grew accustomed to the freedom. I was more at home in an -Indian wigwam than at Alpha Marsh. There I was -impatient of restraint. I set myself against a regular -life with the headstrong self-will of youth; and when -my father died it was worse still. More was then -expected of me. I was the heir, and had to stay at -home and attend to the business of the settlement. -Father Nat humoured me, Roger and Loïs screened -me; but it was of no use, I was like a spoilt child. I -wanted my own way, my liberty, and nothing short -of it could satisfy me. Besides, my sympathies were -enlisted on the side of the French. You know I am -descended from a Chevalier de Langlade, one of the -earliest French colonists, and I considered, and do still -consider, that by right of pre-occupation Canada -belongs to France and not to England; and yet for -no consideration would I have served under the present -Canadian Government. I am willing to fight for -France freely and independently, but not with those -who are robbing her and virtually bringing about her -ruin. This was my excuse to my own conscience for -breaking the bonds which had become irksome to me; -and yet I loved my mother and sisters—above all, -Loïs; and of Roger I cannot speak. I do not think, -if I had realised how completely this contemplated act -of mine would have parted us, I should have had the -courage to go through with it. But I imagined time -would reconcile him to the change, and that he would -continue to join our hunting parties and visit me in -my wigwam; instead of which he entirely withdrew -himself, and after the expedition against Old Britain -it was open enmity between us. From that time to -this he has waged incessant war against the tribes. He -is greatly feared; his name is coupled with a sort of -superstitious terror, and his unusual strength, and the -way in which he always manages to escape capture, -tend to make the Indians believe him invulnerable, and -so they are set upon destroying him. When I joined -the Indians my first act was to marry Nadjii, the chief -Ominipeg’s daughter.”</p> - -<p>He said this in a low voice, with averted head.</p> - -<p>“You mean to say you deliberately married one of -those wild Indian women?” exclaimed Montcalm.</p> - -<p>“Yes, in all honour, according to Indian rites, I took -Nadjii for my squaw. We have a son. I am irrevocably -bound to her,” he continued. “Fully as I recognise the -mistake I have made, I would not have you misjudge -her. Nadjii is no wild Indian woman: she is very -gentle, tender, and true; her devotion to me is -unbounded. I believe she would lay down her life for -me. No, she is not to blame; if a wrong has been -done it has been of my own doing, and in all honour -I must abide by it.”</p> - -<p>“I pity you with all my heart,” said the General.</p> - -<p>“I never felt the need of pity until now,” answered -the hunter. “Of course you cannot understand the -charms of such a life as I have led for nearly seven -years. It is purely physical. To gallop over the -prairies, to hunt in the forests, to penetrate into -mountain fastnesses and deep, glorious valleys—no -one who has not partaken of it can conceive the delight -of such an existence. The mere fact of living is -in itself a joy. You, with your high European civilisation, -have mental and intellectual enjoyments; but -we colonists have nothing of all that—we know only -the primitive pleasures of hunting, fishing, and warfare. -And then there is a strange poetry, a wonderful charm, -in this Indian life. To lie in a birch canoe throughout -the calm summer days upon the bosom of some great -inland lake, to cast the line into its deep, pellucid -waters, and, gazing down into its depths, watch the -trout glide shadowy and silent over the glistening -pebbles, has a mysterious fascination; or, again, to -explore the forests, floating down rivers or lakes beneath -the shadows of moss-bearded firs, to drag the -canoes up on the sandy beach, and, lighting the camp -fire, recline beneath the trees, and smoke and laugh away -the sultry hours, in a lazy luxury of enjoyment, indescribable, -and which you cannot realise, but which I have -lived and revelled in, forgetful, alas? that there are -higher duties incumbent upon man than mere personal -indulgence. And now I reap the bitter fruit. If I had -remained at my post, all this would not have happened.”</p> - -<p>“But where was the Ranger?” asked Montcalm.</p> - -<p>“In October he was, you know, somewhere up by -Ticonderoga. You remember he had a skirmish with -one of our scouting parties about that time?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said Montcalm, “and he punished our men -terribly, driving them back with such heavy loss that -I determined that for the winter, at least, no more -scouting parties should be sent out. But now what -are your plans? What do you propose doing?”</p> - -<p>“I came to let you know that I am going down -to the Marshes to reconnoitre, and see with my own -eyes the extent of the misfortune. As you say, there -may be exaggeration in the account I have received, -which was by no means through a direct channel. -You will not begin operations till March, and I shall -be back long before that.”</p> - -<p>“I hope so,” answered the General; “for I depend -greatly upon you to keep the Indians in order. I -expect the English will attack us by way of Lakes -Champlain and Ontario; in any case, I am preparing -even now to resist them.”</p> - -<p>“I am more inclined to think they will attack -Quebec itself.”</p> - -<p>“Hardly,” answered Montcalm; “the navigation of -the St. Lawrence is too difficult and dangerous for -any hostile fleet to attempt. Besides, the position of -Quebec renders it impregnable unless we are betrayed. -I have a plan of defence which will prevent the enemy -approaching Quebec.”</p> - -<p>“I am satisfied to believe such to be the case,” said -Charles; “and now, farewell, sir; you may trust me to -be back before the rivers and lakes are unthawed.”</p> - -<p>“Will you not stay to supper?” said Montcalm. “We -are alone; all my officers are dancing attendance upon -the Quebec ladies.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you,” answered Charles; “I have still certain -things to settle with the chiefs, and I start to-morrow before dawn. I must therefore take leave of -you now. Farewell, Mademoiselle,” he said, approaching -Mercèdes.</p> - -<p>“Adieu,” she answered; and for one second as their -fingers touched their eyes met. He bowed his head -over her hand; then turned away, and, with a hurried -salutation to the General, left the room.</p> - - - - -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - -<h2 id='chXXIV' title='XXIV—THE PRODIGAL'> - <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER XXIV</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.1em'>THE PRODIGAL</span> -</h2> - - -<p>The moon was shining brightly on the snow-covered -earth, causing the outlines of the houses and -buildings of the Marshes to stand forth in bold relief, -while the snow hid under its whiteness the ruins of -the late invasion. Not a sound was heard; perfect -stillness reigned over the land, even as it reigns in the -chamber of death where the still figure lies beneath -the white shroud, soon to be put away out of sight, -until the dawn of the great resurrection day, when -earth and sea shall give up their dead.</p> - -<p>In springtime the earth bursts forth, leaf and bud -and flower, and the heart of man rejoices and is made -glad. Surely it is but the shadow of that joy which -shall be ours when the graves shall give up their -dead, and we shall see our loved ones glorified, -made perfect, released from the bondage of earth, -knowing but one law, the great law of Love, by -the divine power of which their chains have been -broken and they have been loosed. Truly then, and -then only, shall we give utterance to the cry, “O -death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy -victory?”</p> - -<p>Oh! how the heart aches and strains after that consummation. -Our loved ones, who are gone before, -whose spirits are still with us by night and by day, -in the busy crowd as in the solitude of our chamber, -whose voices we long to hear, whose hands we long to -press—what agony of patient waiting!</p> - -<p>But there was one standing out in the snow looking -up at the Marshes travel-stained and worn, not daring -to approach the home of his fathers. He had come -many miles over a trackless country, over ice-bound -rivers, through deep forests, over mountains and valleys -covered with snow, enduring hardships which would -have seemed intolerable to a less hardy nature, until -at last he stood before the home of his childhood; -and tears blinded his eyes when he saw that it was -not utterly destroyed, that all had not perished, that -still the village steeple rose in the moonlight, telling -of God’s mercy.</p> - -<p>Suddenly the loud bark of the house-dog warned -him that, unless he retreated, his presence would be -discovered. He had been standing in the high road; -he moved quickly behind a clump of trees, only just -in time. The front door opened, and a stream of -light poured forth as Marcus stepped out on to the -garden path and looked around, cautiously peering -into the dark shadows cast by the house and the trees. -He heard him say, “I can see no one. Had I better -let Bob loose?” The dog’s bark had changed into -a whine, which Charles Langlade knew full well to -mean that his instinct had discovered a friend, not -a foe, in the night watcher.</p> - -<p>“It might be as well,” said a woman’s voice; and a -second later there was a rush and a bound, and Charles -Langlade felt two great paws upon his shoulders, and -a loud whine of welcome went up into the still night -air.</p> - -<p>“Who’s there?” asked Marcus, in a clear, loud -voice.</p> - -<p>“Down, Bob; down, old boy,” said Charles, stepping -out of the shadow; and crossing the road, he opened -the wicket gate and entered.</p> - -<p>“Marcus!”</p> - -<p>“Charles!”</p> - -<p>And the two brothers clasped hands.</p> - -<p>“My poor boy! Will you ever forgive me?” said -the elder.</p> - -<p>“I have nothing to forgive,” answered Marcus; -“you did what you thought right.”</p> - -<p>“Nay, I did what pleased me,” answered -Charles. “But tell me who is living and who is -dead?”</p> - -<p>At this moment Loïs came out of the house.</p> - -<p>“Oh, Charles, my brother!” and her arms were -round his neck.</p> - -<p>The three stood there in the snow, so deeply moved -they could give no utterance to their feelings, and Bob -leapt around them, giving vent to his delight in short, -sharp barks.</p> - -<p>“Come in,” said Loïs. “We have so much to tell -you.”</p> - -<p>“My mother, the children?” said Charles.</p> - -<p>“Are unhurt,” said Loïs.</p> - -<p>“And Father Nat?”</p> - -<p>“Ah! that is the worst of all; still, he is living. -Come,” and she drew him across the threshold of what -had been his home; and as he stood once more in the -old familiar place, the glamour fell from his eyes, and -he exclaimed bitterly,—</p> - -<p>“How could I forsake you?”</p> - -<p>The front kitchen was empty; but there was fire on -the hearth, and the lighted lamp showed Loïs how -worn and travel-stained he was. His face was thin and -haggard, his lips shrivelled with exposure and cold; -his bearskin partially hid the dilapidated condition of -his clothes. He drew near the fire and stretched out -his hands to the flame. Marcus, looking at him, -said,—</p> - -<p>“You will eat, Charles?”</p> - -<p>“I have had no food since yesterday,” he said; “my -provisions have come to an end, and there is no game -abroad in this weather.”</p> - -<p>“Sit down and warm yourself,” said Loïs, pushing -him gently into the chair which had been his -father’s. “All are gone to rest. I will get your -supper.”</p> - -<p>“Tell me first what of Father Nat. Does Roger -know?”</p> - -<p>“Father Nat was terribly wounded,” said Loïs; “and -for a long time we despaired of saving him; but within -the last fortnight there have been signs of gradual -improvement; he has seemed to recognise us at times. -But now ask no more until you are refreshed,” and she -left the kitchen, whilst Marcus filled a pipe and handed -it to his brother.</p> - -<p>“It is the calumet of peace,” he said.</p> - -<p>“You heap coals of fire on my head.”</p> - -<p>But nature was so exhausted that he sank back in -his chair, and, putting the pipe to his lips, slowly -smoked.</p> - -<p>The relief of finding that those nearest and dearest -to him were living was so great, that in his weariness -he seemed powerless to realise anything more; mind -and body were alike benumbed; and when Loïs brought -in the supper they had to rouse him and force him to -eat. It was evident he had no idea of what had -occurred, by the words to which he had already given -utterance. After he had eaten, looking up at Loïs, he -said,—</p> - -<p>“I heard the settlement was burnt to the ground, -and you were all slain. The man who told me said he -was an eye-witness, and had fled when the village was -in flames.”</p> - -<p>“But for Nadjii’s warning and Roger’s sudden -arrival, such would have been the case,” answered -Loïs.</p> - -<p>“Nadjii! what had Nadjii to do with it?” said Charles -sharply.</p> - -<p>“She told me you had bidden her watch over us. She -came to me, and gave us notice that the Indians were -coming to attack us; and so they did not surprise -us, and we were able to defend ourselves until Roger -came. It seems he had been warned by one of her -people.”</p> - -<p>“My true-hearted Nadjii, my brave little -squaw!” said Charles, his whole face lighting up -with pleasure and emotion. “Where is she? What -has become of her? Has she returned to her -tribe?”</p> - -<p>There was a moment’s silence; he was quick to notice -it.</p> - -<p>“What has become of her? Where is she?” he -asked hastily.</p> - -<p>“She saved my life, she saved Father Nat’s life,—she -died for us;” and standing before him, Loïs burst -into tears.</p> - -<p>He started; every particle of colour forsook his -face.</p> - -<p>“Tell me all,” he said, in a low voice.</p> - -<p>And Marcus told him, for Loïs could not, how Nadjii -had covered them with her own body, and how she had -been wounded unto death.</p> - -<p>“And the child?” said Charles, burying his face -in his hands. “She would not have left it behind.”</p> - -<p>Again there was a moment’s silence; then Loïs -knelt down beside him, and, laying her hand on his -arm, said,—</p> - -<p>“When she was dying, she told us where to find it—in -the trunk of a tree in the forest where she had -laid it. Roger went to fetch it.”</p> - -<p>“Roger did that?” exclaimed Charles. “Let me -see my boy, Loïs!”</p> - -<p>She hesitated just for one moment, then continued -slowly, not daring to raise her tearful eyes to his -face,—</p> - -<p>“He looked for the child carefully; he found the spot -where Nadjii had told him the babe was, but it was -gone.”</p> - -<p>Charles sprang up. “Stolen!” he exclaimed, his eyes -flashing.</p> - -<p>“We fear so,” said Loïs. “Certainly there was no -trace of any bodily harm having befallen him; he had -simply been taken away.”</p> - -<p>“Did Nadjii know of this before she died?” asked -Charles, with set teeth.</p> - -<p>“No,” answered Loïs; “she thought she saw him. -Her last words were ‘Jesus, Nenemoosha.’ Was she -a Christian, Charles?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, thank God, I taught her all she could understand,” -he answered, “and her gentle soul delighted in -the stories of Christ’s love. She was a better Christian -than many who enjoy far greater privileges than did -my squaw wife. I am glad she thought the child was -safe. The Indians must have found and taken him. If -they have wrought him harm, then his mother’s tribe -will avenge him. He was such a bonnie two-year-old -boy, Loïs;” and as one oppressed with a weight of -sorrow, he let his head sink on to his bosom, and -heavy tears fell from his eyes. It was the strong -man’s agony.</p> - -<p>His past life of physical enjoyment, without thought -of the morrow, was fading as a mirage fades away -even as he gazed, and his soul was steeped in stern -reality. Ruin and death were around him. He had -deemed himself all-powerful, capable of choosing his -own way, shaping his own course, unmindful of any will -save his own. A rebellious son! Even as the prodigal -he had gone forth in the pride of his youth and manhood, -feeling himself strong, and he had wasted his -life, forgetful, or ignorant perhaps, that there is in -man, made in God’s image, a higher, nobler nature than -in the brute creation. Soul, heart, intellect, are surely -given to bring the body into subjection—not doing -away with material enjoyment, but tempering it; and -as years go on we recognise that our bodies are but -the caskets made to contain the never-dying spirit -which God breathed into man, even the breath of -life.</p> - -<p>“My son was dead and is alive again.” Dead, -though full of life and health, clothed in rich raiment, -going forth, having gathered together all his substance, -rich in friends and in all the world can give; yet he -was dead!</p> - -<p>“Alive again!” when hungry and athirst, his rich -raiment in tatters, his head bowed in sorrow, and his -lips giving utterance to the words, “Father, I have -sinned against Heaven and before thee!” And his -father rejoiced over him.</p> - -<p>Suddenly Charles rose to his feet, threw one arm -round Loïs, and drew her close up to him.</p> - -<p>“Dearest,” he said, “if I have sinned in the past, -God pardon me! I will find the boy and bring him -to you; and when this war is over I will come home, -and ease the burden from your shoulders, Marcus, so -that you may take up your calling and be a minister -of God, according to your heart’s desire, and I will care -for our mother and the younger ones, and strive to do -my duty in the land, as you, my younger brother, have -done in my stead.”</p> - -<p>He held out his hand to Marcus, who grasped it, -saying,—</p> - -<p>“Why not stay with us now, Charles?”</p> - -<p>“Because my honour is pledged,” he answered. -“Not to the Indians; I shall never again dwell among -them or be one with them; but to Canada, to General -Montcalm. I have sworn to stand by him to the end, -and I will do so, not as an Indian chief if I can help it. -I shall join the Canadian militia as a volunteer, as I -ought to have done from the first, and fight for the -cause which I still believe to be the right one. -Tell Roger this; he will understand. And now let -me have one look at Father Nat, after which I will -lie down and sleep, for I am terribly weary. I have -been three weeks on the road from Montreal, and must -return as quickly as possible. Is Roger still here to -protect you?”</p> - -<p>“He will not leave us till the spring,” said Marcus. -“He is gone now for a couple of days to Cauterets on -business; when he does go for good he will leave -us well protected. You need not fear; we have sentries -out by night and by day now.”</p> - -<p>“It is well; let me see Father Nat,” said Charles; -and they led the way to the room where Nathaniel -Boscowen lay sleeping. Shading the lamp she carried -in her hand, Loïs approached the bed, and was surprised -to see that his eyes were open and that he -moved restlessly.</p> - -<p>“Is that you, Loïs?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Yes, father,” she answered; “shall I arrange your -pillows?” and signing to the two young men to keep -in the shadow, she bent over him.</p> - -<p>He lifted his hand. “My pillows are all right,” he -said; “but I heard voices in the room below, and it -seemed to me I recognised Charles’s. I would it were -so; I loved the lad: if only I might see him before I -die!”</p> - -<p>“You are not going to die, Father Nat; you are -getting well, and will be as hale and hearty as ever. -Do you wish to see Charles so very much?” said -Loïs.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” answered Nathaniel shortly, as if the question -irritated him.</p> - -<p>“Then I will tell you something. It was his voice -you heard; he is here,” said Loïs.</p> - -<p>“Where?” asked Father Nat, trying to lift his head, -but Charles was quickly beside him.</p> - -<p>“Dear Father Nat,” he said, “forgive me.”</p> - -<p>“Ay, my lad, I forgive thee,” and he clasped his -hand. “I always told you they were a treacherous -people. You will come back to us now?”</p> - -<p>“Please God I will,” said Charles.</p> - -<p>“Then I am content. The breach is healed; Langlade -and Boscowen are not riven!” and closing his -eyes, he settled himself to sleep. They watched him -for a few minutes, and then crept softly out of the -room.</p> - - - - -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - -<h2 id='chXXV' title='XXV—TO THE FORE'> - <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER XXV</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.1em'>TO THE FORE</span> -</h2> - - -<p>At the first sign of spring, General Montcalm -prepared to take the field and oppose a steady -resistance to an attack which it was generally believed -would be made upon Quebec by way of Lakes Champlain -and Ontario.</p> - -<p>He was sitting in his tent one afternoon, in company -with General Bougainville and Chevalier Levis. On -a table before them maps were spread out, and Montcalm -was explaining his plan of defence, supposing the -English should attempt a regular siege of Quebec.</p> - -<p>“I do not believe it possible for the English to -approach the town,” he said. “All round, on the high -ground overlooking it, I shall station the principal part -of the army; the right wing will extend along the river -St. Charles and the left on to Montmorenci; by this -means our troops will cover an area of from seven to -eight miles. The steep ground rises almost from the -water’s edge, and the guns from the citadel itself will -do the rest. Are you not both of my opinion?”</p> - -<p>“We are,” said Levis. “If we can hold out till the -winter, I believe we shall see the last of the English.”</p> - -<p>Even while he was speaking, voices were heard outside -the tent, and the sentinel, looking in, said,—</p> - -<p>“A soldier with a despatch for the General.”</p> - -<p>“Let him come in,” said Montcalm, looking up.</p> - -<p>A Canadian, recognisable as such by his dress, -entered. He was covered with dust, and had evidently -ridden hard. He laid a letter on the table before the -General.</p> - -<p>“Who has sent you?” asked Montcalm, as he opened -the despatch.</p> - -<p>“Captain Langlade,” was the ready answer.</p> - -<p>The General’s face grew visibly sterner as he read, -and when he had finished, he laid the letter on the -table, kept his hand upon it, and said emphatically,—</p> - -<p>“The decisive moment is approaching, gentlemen. -This letter is to inform me that the English with a -great fleet are within three leagues of Quebec; they -have on board a large army, commanded by the young -General Wolfe. We know full well what sort of man -he is! The fate of Canada is now in the balance.”</p> - -<p>“And you will come forth victorious, General, as you -did at Fort William Henry and Ticonderoga,” said -Levis.</p> - -<p>“God grant it!” answered the General. “I think -our measures are well taken,” he said, turning to -the two officers. “In my opinion, unless there be -treason in the camp, the English will never make -themselves masters of the town. I believe it to be -impregnable.”</p> - -<p>“I am certain that, with intrenchments, I could hold -the city with three or four thousand men,” said Bougainville; -adding, “In a few days we shall muster -sixteen thousand men in and round its walls. There is -nothing to fear; let the English come!”</p> - -<p>“I am satisfied you are right,” answered the -General.</p> - -<p>Then, turning to the man who had brought the -message, he said, “You will return at once to Captain -Langlade, and tell him we shall join the army at -Quebec as quickly as possible. And now, gentlemen, -we will call a general council of officers, and then -to-morrow at dawn <i>en route</i>; we are approaching the -end.”</p> - -<p>“And a good thing too,” said Bougainville. “We -have shilly-shallied long enough. It is time the -English understood once for all that we intend to -remain masters of Canada, and to hold the fortress -upon which old Samuel Champlain first planted the -French flag.”</p> - -<p>The following day the whole forces of the French -and Colonial army were on their way to Quebec. Only -three battalions were left at Ticonderoga, and a strong -detachment placed so as to resist any possible attack -by Lake Ontario. The French took up positions at -the mouth of the St. Charles on the east, and the -river Montmorenci on the north-east, which Montcalm -had fortified with the greatest possible skill. Across -the mouth of the St. Charles a boom of logs chained -together was placed, protected by mounted cannon. -A bridge of boats crossing the river connected the -city with the camp. All the gates of Quebec except -that of St. Charles were closed and barricaded. A -hundred and six cannon were mounted on the walls, -whilst on the river there was a floating battery of -twelve heavy pieces, a number of gunboats, and eight -fireships.</p> - -<p>The army for the defence mustered, they posted -sixteen thousand men, for the most part advantageously, -behind defensive works. A large portion of these -were Canadians, who were of little use in the open -field, but fought well behind intrenchments; there -were also upwards of a thousand Indians from the -brave tribes of the Iroquois, or five nations. It was -at the end of June, and the country round Quebec, -naturally fertile, was in the height of its summer glory. -On the curving shore from the St. Charles to the rocky -gorge of Montmorenci, for a distance of seven to eight -miles, were to be seen the whitewashed dwellings of -the parish of Beauport, and the fields on both sides -studded with tents, huts, and Indian wigwams. Midway -between the little river of Beauport, on a rising -ground, stood a large stone house, round which tents -were thickly clustered. Here Montcalm had his headquarters.</p> - -<p>Looking down upon her defenders, Quebec sat perched -upon her rock, a congregation of stone houses, palaces, -convents, and hospitals; the uniformity being broken -by the green trees of the seminary gardens, the spires -of the cathedral, the Convent of the Ursulines, and the -monastic buildings of the Recollets and the Jesuits. -A firm, solid mass she looked in the summer sunshine, -unconquered, and it seemed unconquerable. A lovable -town, quaint even then, with its one-storied houses, -built heavily of stone and stuccoed brick, with two -dormer windows full of house plants in each roof. -Here and there, higher still, a weather-worn wood-coloured -gallery was seen, pent-roofed and balustered, -geraniums showing through the balusters, and white -doves circling around and cooing upon the windowsills. -Such as she was in her homely fashion, French -and English alike looked up to her—the one with -loving pride, the other with covetous desire.</p> - -<p>On the 26th of June the English fleet anchored off -the Island of Orleans, a few miles below Quebec. A -small party attempting to land was opposed by the -Canadians, but they were beaten off, and the whole -army then landed.</p> - -<p>When William Pitt gave the command of the -English army in Canada to General Wolfe, it was -but natural that such an act should arouse feelings -of jealousy in men older than himself, and under -whose orders he had served in the earlier part of the -campaign. Wolfe himself was more alive to the -responsibility than to the honour which was almost -thrust upon him. The state of his health was most -precarious; in fact, he was rarely free from acute pain, -and it required an immense power of self-command and -energy to enable him to bear up against fatigue and -mental anxiety. Nevertheless, he had accepted the -command unhesitatingly, and with the determination -of conquering Quebec and adding this new jewel to the -English crown.</p> - -<p>To accomplish this he knew that half measures were -no longer feasible. From the end of the Island of -Orleans he could see and judge the full strength of the -enemy; three great batteries frowned down upon him -from above Quebec, behind which rose the redoubts and -parapets of Cape Diamond, whilst three other batteries -down to the river’s edge guarded the lower part of the -town. The whole country round was covered with -earthworks, redoubts, and intrenchments; the river -with floating batteries, fireships, and other engines -of war. His first act was to issue a proclamation in -the king’s name:—</p> - -<blockquote> -<p>“His Excellency Major-General James Wolfe, Commander-in-Chief -of his Britannic Majesty’s troops now -stationed in the river St. Lawrence, to the people of -Canada.</p> - -<p>“My king and master George III., justly irritated -against France, has resolved to humble her pride -and to revenge the insults she has inflicted on the -English colonies. With this purpose in view he has -sent me, at the head of a formidable army, with a fleet -which has already advanced almost into the centre of -their chief city, to deprive France of all her establishments -in North America, and to proclaim British rule. -This is my mission, and by the grace of God I hope to -carry it into effect.</p> - -<div style='text-align:right'>“<span class='sc'>James Wolfe.</span>”</div> - -</blockquote> - -<p>This done, he took possession of Point Levis, a -promontory on the south bank of the St. Lawrence, -where the current narrows into a deep stream of only -a mile in breadth. General Monckton occupied this -point with four battalions, and shelled the lower town -across the river, but the citadel was beyond his reach. -Wolfe’s army consisted of nine thousand troops: it -should have amounted to fourteen thousand, but at -the last moment the orders for some of the West Indian -troops to join were countermanded; this was probably -partly due to jealousy at Wolfe’s having been -nominated to the chief command.</p> - -<p>The two armies were stationed opposite each other -on either side of the river. Vaudreuil, as Governor -of Canada, still held command, and by his mistakes -frequently hampered Montcalm’s action. Had he -planted guns in such a manner as to fire down on -the English fleet, it could never have taken up a -position so near the city; he failed to do this, however, -and the result was that the English fleet passed up the -river in safety, to the astonishment of the Canadians, -who, until then, had believed it impossible for large -ships to be brought up the St. Lawrence.</p> - -<p>Again, very shortly after the landing of the English -army on the Island of Orleans, Vaudreuil made a -desperate attempt to destroy the English fleet by -launching fireships against it. The English sentries -at the farther end of the island saw in the middle of -the night vessels coming down the river. These ships -were really filled with pitch, tar, and all sorts of -combustibles mixed with shells and grenades, and the decks -crowded with a number of cannon crammed with grape -shot and musket balls. Suddenly they became like -pillars of flame, and advanced with tremendous explosion -and noise. But the French officers had lost their nerve, -and set fire to the ships too soon. The English, after -their first surprise, recovered their coolness, lowered -their boats, and the sailors rowed out to meet the fireships, -and by means of grapnels they towed them -towards land, where they were stranded and left to burn -themselves out.</p> - -<p>Thus the fight might truly be said to have begun. -To lookers on, and at this distance of time, it almost bears -the aspect of a duel, the two principal actors standing -out boldly in relief, fighting not for themselves, but -for their countries, and, to a certain extent, for their -religion. Catholic France, Protestant England! Noble -men in every sense of the word, worthy of each other, -their names have come down to posterity linked together—“Wolfe -and Montcalm.”</p> - - - - -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - -<h2 id='chXXVI' title='XXVI—THE CHILD'> - <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER XXVI</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.1em'>THE CHILD</span> -</h2> - - -<p>General Montcalm was slowly pacing up and -down the room he occupied at his headquarters on -the St. Charles; the only other person present was Langlade, -called by courtesy Captain Langlade. A look of -great annoyance was on the General’s face.</p> - -<p>“You cannot do this,” he said. “What you have -engaged to accomplish you must carry out to the end. -If you withdraw yourself from the Indians, you will do -our cause incalculable harm. They know you; they -obey you; you are a power with them. With the -Canadians you are no one; they have their own officers. -In my opinion, you are bound to retain your present -position until the end of the campaign; the wrongs -you deplore would be greatly increased if your influence -were withdrawn. I entreat of you, make no change -at the present critical moment. As far as lies in my -power, I will lighten your duties; but you must remain -with your Indians, to hold them in hand and to -restrain them.”</p> - -<p>“I have promised my people I would have nothing -further in common with the Indians,” said Charles.</p> - -<p>“You pledged yourself first to me,” said the General. -“You cannot desert me; you would do far greater harm -by withdrawing yourself. I entreat of you not to do -this thing.” And he went up to the young man, and -took his hand with the persuasive eloquence for which -he was so noted.</p> - -<p>Charles knew full well that the General was right; -that, once his authority removed, the Indians would -be more difficult than ever to hold under restraint, -and that their natural cruelty would have free scope. -Scalps without number! they had no other ambition. -The Iroquois, if they were foremost in war and in -eloquence, were also foremost in savage acts. They -were proud to have a white man as their leader, and -would revenge his desertion, perhaps even by withdrawing -themselves from the French cause. He -realised for the first time how difficult it is to retrace -false steps, and to undo wrongdoing. He had joined -himself to the Indians, he had sworn to serve the French -cause, of his own free will and for his own personal -ends: was he justified in withdrawing himself at so -critical a moment for reasons equally personal? His -sense of justice told him he was not. After a few -minutes’ reflection, during which the General watched -him anxiously, he said, in serious, measured tones, -very different from the eager, impetuous voice of -old,—</p> - -<p>“I will remain with you. I have done harm enough -already. It is no longer with me a question of right, -but what is least wrong. I have studied my own -inclinations all my life; now I am going against -them.”</p> - -<p>“And you do well, believe me,” said Montcalm. -“No one can hate the Indians more than I do; my -whole soul recoils from them. How you ever came to -join them has been a wonder to me; but having done -so, it is but fair that you should remain at your post -until the war is over. I should never know an hour’s -tranquillity if you were not their leader. Thank you -for your decision; some day I may perhaps find means -of proving my gratitude.”</p> - -<p>“You could render me a service now at once, if you -would,” said Charles.</p> - -<p>“Name it,” answered the General.</p> - -<p>“I told you I had a son,” said Charles quickly; -“his mother died trying to save the Marshes. She -had carried the child with her in her long journeyings, -and when the Indians attacked the village, she hid -him in the trunk of a tree while she went to the rescue. -When the fray was over she told my sister Loïs where -to find the child, but when she sent to look for it, it -had disappeared. I have been a long time tracing it, -but at last discovered that a half-brother of Nadjii’s, -the lad who had warned Roger of the meditated attack, -had found the child, brought it up here, and given it -in charge of a Huron woman, living at Lorette. At -first I doubted the story; but I went to see the child -two days ago, and recognised him as my son. I cannot -leave him where he is—it is not safe; and, moreover, -I never wish him to know that he has Indian blood in -his veins. I have thought that at the Convent of the -Ursulines they would take him in, and care for him, if -you would obtain admission for him.”</p> - -<p>“Nothing can be simpler,” answered Montcalm. -“You know that three months ago Mercèdes entered -as a novice. After that affair of Montreal I never -allowed her to return to Madame Péan: indeed, she -had no desire to do so; she begged me to let her enter -the convent at once. In fact, she pined and drooped -from that time, until I brought her back to Quebec, -and she and Marthe both entered the Ursulines -together. Since then she has recovered, and whenever -I can manage to find time to go and see her, -she is as bright and happy as I can wish. Yes, -certainly, I will give you a letter to the Superior. Take -your child there; it will be well cared for. I will write -it at once;” and sitting down, he drew the writing -materials towards him. “There,” he said, handing the -letter to Charles, “if you present yourself to-morrow, -and ask to see the Superior in my name, you will gain -admittance. Give her this. I have explained everything; -the child will be safe there.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you,” said Charles; “and now I will leave -you. I shall be in Quebec to-morrow. You may trust -me; I am yours until the war is over,” he added.</p> - -<p>“I have your word,” answered Montcalm; “surely -that is enough,” and accompanying him to the door, -they shook hands, and then he watched the young -man go down the hill-side, on his way to the Indian -quarters.</p> - -<p>“A fine fellow, but a ruined life,” he thought. -“Thank goodness I have persuaded him to remain -with his Indians; the game would have been as good -as played out if he had deserted us.”</p> - -<p>It was early morning as Charles Langlade strode -rapidly along the road leading from the hamlet of -Lorette to Quebec. Through meadows and rye-fields -it wound, crossing and recrossing the swift St. Charles, -a somewhat lonely road with a few cottages scattered -here and there, and irregular, shabby-looking cabins -along the lanes, at the doors of which lounged Indian -boys and girls of all shades and colours. This was the -Huron village of Lorette. They were Christians after -their fashion, the poor remnant of the mighty Huron -nation, converted by the Jesuits and crushed by the -Iroquois in the far western wilderness.</p> - -<p>But Charles Langlade was not alone. He carried on -his shoulder a boy of some three years old. The two -resembled each other most curiously, except that the -child’s skin was still fair and soft, whilst the father’s -was bronzed and weather-beaten. There were the -same deep blue eyes and curling chestnut hair, the -same pose of the head slightly tossed back. They -looked very picturesque, the hunter in his crimson -shirt, one arm raised, holding the half-naked child, who -sat proudly aloft, clutching at his father’s hair, beating -his little bare feet against the broad chest, and laughing -aloud for glee; so bubbling over with life, that the -passers-by turned to look back at them.</p> - -<p>It was a goodly sight; and so they reached the -heavy stone gateway leading into the city, set thick -with mighty bolts and spikes. Here Charles Langlade -paused, and showed his pass before he could gain -admittance; but he was not detained long, and went -his way through a squalid lane, the old “Sault au -Matelot,” looking its best this bright summer morning, -creeping under the shelter of the city walls and -overhanging rock, from which drooped weeds and -grass, with just a few rays of sunlight penetrating -here and there, glistening on the abundant moisture -which slowly trickled down, until at last he reached -the flight of steps leading from the lower to the upper -town, and having climbed them stood at the convent -gates. He paused a moment before pulling the great -bell, lifted the child from off his shoulder, and placed it -on the ground. As it stood thus beside him he looked -at it, and passed his hand over the rough curly head, -straightening the short crimson cotton blouse, which, -with innumerable strings of coloured beads round its -neck, was all the clothes it boasted; then with an -impatient sigh he pulled the rope dangling at the -gateway. The sound rang through the silent court -and garden, and presently a small panel was pushed -on one side, and a voice asked,—</p> - -<p>“Who is there?”</p> - -<p>“From his Excellency General Montcalm. I am -the bearer of a letter to the reverend mother,” said -Langlade.</p> - -<p>The little panel was clapped quickly to again, and -he heard the receding footsteps of the doorkeeper.</p> - -<p>He was not kept long waiting. This time the little -door let into the big gateway was unbarred, and he was -bidden to enter; and, after she had carefully rebolted -the door, the nun preceded him through the garden, -full of flowers, clumps of lilac bushes, roses, and hollyhocks, -blossoming within the shelter of the high -surrounding walls, while the bright morning sun poured -down on the alleys and greensward with all the glory -of the short Canadian summer.</p> - -<p>He was ushered into a long whitewashed room, the -only furniture of which was a deal table, a few common -chairs, and a tall crucifix on the wall.</p> - -<p>The nun pointed to a chair, and disappeared with -that soft gliding movement habitual to her class; but -Charles Langlade, picking the child up, carried it to the -open window and looked out on the quiet scene; and -as he caught a glimpse of black robes moving among -the trees, he wondered in his secret heart if Mercèdes -were there. A strange longing had been upon him all -that day to see her face once more, and then—well, -then it would be over.</p> - -<p>The door opened, and a tall thin woman in black -robes and veil, her face framed in white linen, entered -noiselessly. Behind her was another figure dressed in -the same fashion, only she wore a long white robe and -veil; her face was very pale and her eyes downcast, -but in her Charles Langlade recognised Mercèdes; and -thus it was these two stood once more in each other’s -presence.</p> - -<p>“I have read the General’s letter, Mr. Langlade, and -understand that you wish to leave your child with us -for a time. You can do so; we will take all care of -it, and when this terrible war is over you can claim it -of us.”</p> - -<p>So said the reverend mother, and advancing, she -tried to take the little hand; but the child, terrified, -clung to his father, uttering Indian words indicative -of fear at the strange figure before him, such as he had -never seen before.</p> - -<p>“He will soon get accustomed to us,” said the -mother gently. “Sister Mercèdes, will you try your -influence?”</p> - -<p>Charles whispered a few words to the boy, and, -sitting down, placed him on his knee, and as Mercèdes -approached, he said,—</p> - -<p>“Mademoiselle, your father bade me enquire after -your health and well-being.”</p> - -<p>“Tell my dear father I am well and happy,” she -answered; “and that we pray unceasingly for his -success.”</p> - -<p>She spoke quite calmly, and the colour had come -back into her face.</p> - -<p>“I will not forget,” he answered; then again he -spoke to the child. The boy looked up at the young -novice, who, trembling slightly, held out her arms and -smiled upon him, speaking a few soft words such as she -had been wont to use to her little sister at home, and -he answered with a wild cry, like a bird.</p> - -<p>“He is only a little savage; you must tame him,” -said Charles, rising and placing the child in her arms; -and bowing low before her and the mother, he went -towards the door. He paused one second on the threshold, -and the last thing he saw was the white figure of -the nun, clasping in her arms the child in its red robe -and gaudy beads.</p> - -<p>Would they ever meet again?</p> - - - - -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - -<h2 id='chXXVII' title='XXVII—TWO HEROES'> - <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER XXVII</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.1em'>TWO HEROES</span> -</h2> - - -<p>Late one evening Loïs was startled by an Indian -youth creeping round the house. Going out to -him, he gave her a folded paper, which proved to be a -letter from Charles. It ran thus:—</p> - -<blockquote> -<p>“Yes, Loïs, I have found the boy, and I have placed -him in safety in the Ursuline Convent in Quebec, with -Mercèdes Montcalm. When the war is over, if you -will have him he shall be conveyed to you; at present -it would be impossible to do so with any safety. After -my assurance to you that I would separate myself -from the Indians, you will be surprised to hear that at -General Montcalm’s entreaty I have retained my command. -He represented to me, and I think justly, that -I had no right for any private consideration, any personal -quarrel, to bring disunion into his army, which, -by throwing up my Indian command, and attaching -myself to the Canadian contingent, I should most -assuredly do. It would be a breach of honour. My -first engagement was made to him. The Indians are -only held in check by my influence; if that were removed, -their cruelty and licence would be unbounded.</p> - -<p>“All this I know to be true, and therefore I have decided -not to inflict further wrong on others; what is done I -must abide by. Bitterly as I deplore the past, at the -present moment I feel bound to those who, knowing -nothing of my private life, have placed confidence in -me. It cannot last long. General Wolfe is pushing -on towards Quebec, but our positions are strong. It is -now July. In less than three months the winter will -force the English to retreat, probably to return to -England; the Indians will then disperse and I shall -be released. In the meantime, I am almost face to -face with Roger. I am stationed with General Levis -on the heights of Montmorenci, and I have every -reason to believe that Roger, with his Rangers, is in -the forest, trying to discover a ford across the river. -We are on the same search. If it be so, we can scarcely -do otherwise than meet one day. Pray for us, Loïs, -and that this cruel war may end, and that we may -once more all dwell together in peace!</p> - -<div style='text-align:right; margin-right:4em;'>“Your loving brother,</div> -<div style='text-align:right'>”<span class='sc'>Charles Langlade</span>.</div> - -<p class='ni'>“P.S.—An Indian will be the bearer of this letter; -you may trust him to send me back news of what is -going on at the Marshes. I am watching over you; -you need fear no fresh aggression.”</p> - -</blockquote> - -<p>The question of this ford, alluded to in the above -letter, was of great importance, and it was only discovered -after many days of close watching by the French. -Early one morning, General Levis’s <i>aide-de-camp</i>, a -Scotchman, appeared in his tent bringing with him a -peasant, who explained that he had crossed a ford a -few hours earlier.</p> - -<p>“Then you shall serve us as guide,” said Levis, and -he told off eleven thousand Canadians under their officer, -Repentigny, with orders to intrench themselves opposite -the ford. Charles Langlade, with four hundred Indians, -went in advance, crossed the ford, and discovered the -English in the forest; not considering himself sufficiently -strong to attack, he returned and told Repentigny, -who sent to Levis, who again sent to Vaudreuil!</p> - -<p>The Indians, thinking they would be baulked of their -prey, became mutinous at the delay, and Langlade -found it impossible to restrain them; they declared -that if he would not lead them, they would attack the -Rangers without him, and, to avoid this, he recrossed -the ford.</p> - -<p>So savage was their onset that they drove the -Rangers back on the regulars, who, however, stood their -ground and repulsed the Indians with considerable -loss. Nevertheless, they carried off thirty-six scalps. -Montcalm and Vaudreuil determined to remain on the -defensive; the English were powerless to injure them. -Wolfe’s position was a dangerous one; his army was -separated into three parts, at such distances that it -would have been impossible for any one of them to -come to the assistance of the other.</p> - -<p>The deep and impassable Montmorenci flowed between -the two camps, but from the cliffs on either side -a gunshot might easily reach and hit a man.</p> - -<p>The Canadians were also growing daily more and -more dispirited. They were ready for active service, -but the inaction to which they were condemned tried -their patience severely.</p> - -<p>It was summer-time. The harvest was at hand, and -the militia men thought of the crops waiting to be -gathered in. Many deserted and went home to their -villages, notwithstanding the exhortations of their -priests; what was found most efficacious to keep them -from so doing was the Governor’s threat to let the -Indians loose upon any who should waver in their -allegiance.</p> - -<p>But in the midst of all these difficulties it was the -characters of the men who stood at the helm which -filled those around them, and indeed their enemies, -with admiration.</p> - -<p>Montcalm’s career in Canada was a struggle against -an inexorable destiny. He bore hunger, thirst, and -fatigue without a murmur, caring for his soldiers, but -with no thought for himself. In the midst of general -corruption he stood forth immaculate, having but one -thought, the good of the colony; the savages themselves -declared they learnt from him patience in suffering.</p> - -<p>A story is told of an Indian chief, when presented to -Montcalm, expressing his astonishment that a man who -was capable of such great deeds should be so diminutive -in stature.</p> - -<p>“Ah! how small thou art!” he exclaimed; then -added, “but I see reflected in thy eyes the height of -the oak and the vivacity of the eagle.”</p> - -<p>His own soldiers and his officers worshipped him, but -such men as the Governor Vaudreuil and his satellites, -Bigot, Cadet, and the rest, both hated and feared him, -as the evil man hates and fears the just one.</p> - -<p>In the opposite camp a dying man held sway. James -Wolfe knew that he was doomed; and his heart sank -within him as the days went by, and at the end of -July he found himself no nearer taking Quebec than -upon the first day on which he landed. He could not -move Montcalm to attack. On the 31st of July he -made a desperate attempt on the French camp, on the -heights of Montmorenci; but notwithstanding acts of -the most daring courage, the English were driven back -with enormous loss. The blow was such a severe one that -Wolfe, thoroughly disheartened, meditated fortifying -the Île-aux-Coudres, and then sailing for England with -the remainder of his army, to return the following year. -But the following year! could he even reckon on a -month of life? and he had so hoped, when he accepted -his office from William Pitt, to return triumphant, having -blotted out and repaired the faults of his predecessors. -Imbued with an ardent love of glory, what must have -been the feelings of such a man at the prospect of -issuing the order for the army he had expected to lead -to victory to sail homewards—if not conquered, at least -foiled! He could not make up his mind to such a -step as long as there still remained the shadow of a -chance.</p> - -<p>In the middle of August he issued another proclamation, -couched in the following terms:—</p> - -<p>“Seeing that the people of Canada have shown so -little appreciation of my mercy, I am resolved to listen -no longer to the sentiments of humanity which have so -far ruled me. It is a cause of bitter sorrow to me to -be obliged even remotely to imitate the acts of barbarity -perpetrated by the Canadians and Indians; yet in -justice to myself and my army, I feel bound to chastise -the Canadian people. From henceforth therefore any -village or settlement which offers resistance to British -rule will be razed to the ground.”</p> - -<p>The churches were to be respected, and women and -children treated with due honour. “If any violence -is offered to a woman, the offender shall be punished -with death.”</p> - -<p>The Rangers and Light Infantry were charged to -carry out these orders, and soon on the sunny plains -around Quebec flames and smoke arose from many a -farmhouse and peaceful village, and the population -went forth in flocks, victims of the scourge of war. -The Governor Vaudreuil wrote despatches home in which -he dilated at great length upon the barbarity of the -English, utterly ignoring the fact that for years past -he had sent his savages the length and breadth of the -English colonies to waste and murder at will, without -regard to either age or sex. Quebec was itself greatly -injured; many families had forsaken the city, and -taken refuge at Pointe-aux-Trembles, some eighteen -miles up the river on the north shore. Colonel -Carleton landed here with six hundred men, and took -upwards of a hundred ladies, old men, and children -prisoners. They were conducted to Wolfe’s camp, where -they were courteously treated, the ladies being invited -to dine at his table, and the following day they were -sent under escort back to Quebec.</p> - -<p>The general aspect of affairs grew daily more and -more serious for English and French alike. Dysentery -and fever broke out in the English camp. On the -French side the Canadians were deserting in great -numbers, and food was becoming daily so scarce that -the rations had to be again and again reduced. -English ships prevented food arriving from Montreal -by the river, and the conveyance by land was both -slow and expensive. In Quebec there was real -suffering.</p> - -<p>To add to the English troubles, General Wolfe became -so seriously ill that it was feared the end could -not be far off. He was utterly prostrate, and could -only at times rouse himself to attend to business. But -in his own mind he was maturing long-conceived plans; -and when at last an alleviation to his sufferings had -been obtained, he dictated a letter to Brigadier-Generals -Monckton, Townshend, and Murray, laying three -different plans for attacking the enemy before them. -They answered that they considered none of them -feasible, but proposed placing part of the English -army between Quebec and its means of supply, thus -forcing Montcalm either to fight or surrender. Wolfe -accepted this alternative; but he was utterly dependent -even for the power to act upon his physician.</p> - -<p>“I know you cannot cure me,” he said; “but pray -make me up so that I may be without pain for a few -days, and able to do my duty. That is all I ask.”</p> - -<p>“I will do my best,” answered the physician; and -he so far succeeded, that by the first days of September -Wolfe was able to mount his horse and show himself to -his men. But the difficulty still remained unsolved. -How could they land the troops so as to surprise the -French and approach Quebec? As Montcalm had said, -only by treason could it be accomplished.</p> - - - - -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - -<h2 id='chXXVIII' title='XXVIII—AT LAST'> - <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER XXVIII</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.1em'>AT LAST</span> -</h2> - - -<p>“If you will allow me, I will reconnoitre. Disguised -as an Indian, I can approach both the Indian and -Canadian camps. I can even penetrate into Quebec -itself. I know the language, I know their ways; I am -the man most fitted to undertake this task. Information -you must have before risking the safety of the -whole army.”</p> - -<p>“He is quite right, and Captain Roger is the only -man who, with the least chance of success, can undertake -to procure us that information, without which it is -almost madness for us to attempt a landing. If he -is willing to risk his life, we shall be his debtors,” said -Colonel Howe.</p> - -<p>“I am willing,” answered Roger. “With my knowledge -of Indian and Canadian warfare, I run very -little danger of being caught. You have decided, I -think, to take the fleet up the St. Lawrence, and to -effect a landing on the other side of Quebec. That -there is a footpath or a subterraneous passage somewhere -in the neighbourhood of what is called L’Anse -de Foulon I am certain. I have heard that it is a -spot much favoured by smugglers. The Jesuits had -a depôt in the neighbouring cliffs; and since then -Bigot and his crew are said to make it their hiding place. -The whole thing lies in a nutshell—to discover -the path and to assure myself to what extent it -is fortified.”</p> - -<p>“Just so,” exclaimed Wolfe excitedly. “If only we -could secure a footing on the plain and force the -French to fight us!”</p> - -<p>“In two days at latest if I am alive I will report to -you; if I fail in my attempt I will at least try to send -you a message,” said Roger.</p> - -<p>“Of all the services you have rendered us, Captain -Roger, and they have not been a few, this will be -the greatest,” said the General, holding out his hand. -“If I could only bring this war to a close I should die -happy.”</p> - -<p>“Let us hope you may live to enjoy the fruits of -your long anxiety, General,” said Roger; and he took -his leave.</p> - -<p>As the door closed upon him Colonel Howe turned to -Wolfe, saying, “He’ll do it. There’s not such another -fellow in the army; and now my advice is to break up -the camp here and embark a great portion of the -troops. The French will imagine we are preparing to -sail for England.”</p> - -<p>This plan was carried out, General Wolfe going on -board the <i>Sutherland</i>.</p> - -<p>Admiral Holmes’ fleet, with three thousand six -hundred men on board, sailed up and down the river, -The French were thus kept night and day on the -watch to oppose their landing; and Montcalm, though -he fully believed the English were on the eve of their -departure, never for one moment relaxed his vigilance, -feeling sure Wolfe would not be satisfied to withdraw -without striking one decisive blow. So by night and -by day he was on foot, trusting no one’s supervision -save his own. He had sent three thousand men to -Bougainville, above Quebec. Captain de Vergor, with -a hundred Canadians, was posted on the heights near -the town; this spot was looked upon as perfectly safe, -being inaccessible, and was therefore considered sufficiently -protected.</p> - -<p>The town of Quebec was suffering greatly from the -effects of the English fire. The handsome houses -which adorned the quay were in ruins, literally shelled -out. Many of the churches were destroyed, the cathedral -dome was laid open, and the convent and garden -of the Ursulines were torn up by the falling bombs.</p> - -<p>The nuns had dispersed, some taking refuge at the -General Hospital, going sadly from their cloistered -schoolrooms and little ones to the sad hospital wards, -now filled with the wounded and dying, and where -their services were needed by night and by day. -Mercèdes with Marthe had found refuge in their old -rooms, and had taken with them Charles Langlade’s -boy. They had managed to inform the father of this, -and he had sent back word entreating them to guard -the child, as Nadjii’s father Ominipeg—the “Black -Eagle,” as he was surnamed—was seeking for him, -fearful lest he should fall a prisoner into the hands of -the English.</p> - -<p>Charles himself had to feign ignorance of the child’s -whereabouts, so as not to rouse the chief’s anger at a -moment when his services were so requisite; therefore -he commended the boy to their care until such time -as he could send for or fetch him, and they accepted -the charge, and from henceforth kept him concealed, -never leaving him.</p> - -<p>When Roger quitted General Wolfe’s presence, he was -determined at any risk to discover something, let it -be what it might, which would enable the English to -reach the French. He was heartily sick of the war; -the ruined homesteads, the misery he saw at home -and abroad, and the many hardships he himself had -endured, made him long for peace, almost at any price.</p> - -<p>If Wolfe set sail for England it would all have to -be begun over again. The Indians, encouraged by the -French Government, would once more commit depredations -on the frontier settlements, and rapine and -ruin would ensue; and then with the spring the -war would be renewed. No, much as he might regret -the alternative, he felt that either the English must -conquer, or they must be so beaten as to allow of no -return. It was France or England.</p> - -<p>There was very little difference between the Rangers’ -dress and that of the Canadian scouts. The militia -had a sort of uniform, but it was never very strictly -adhered to; especially as time went on, and the difficulty -of procuring materials of any sort increased.</p> - -<p>The French guarded the river banks, and it would -require great skill to land; yet that night, after sunset, -a boat ran along the coast, and when the sentries -challenged it, the answer seemed satisfactory; for it -passed on up the river towards Quebec, without apparently -attempting to avoid observation. One or two -shots were fired at it from English ships, but in the -darkness they evidently missed it, for the boat shot past -and suddenly disappeared in a sort of cove, on either -side of which high cliffs rose almost perpendicularly.</p> - -<p>Roger had been absent four days. It was the evening -of the 11th of September. Autumn was settling -down over the land, to be succeeded by the bitter -Canadian winter.</p> - -<p>“He’s failed, probably been killed; he’d have been -back before now if he had discovered anything,” said -Wolfe, in a voice of hopeless despair, standing on the -foredeck of the <i>Sutherland</i>. John Jervis, Earl of -St. Vincent, and George Carleton, Lord Dorchester, -the friends of his boyhood, were beside him.</p> - -<p>“You have no right to speak so positively. It is -only four days since he started, and a man like Roger -is certain to have taken his precautions; he is not -likely easily to allow himself to be trapped,” said -the former; and even while he spoke a shrill whistle -fell on their ears, and, looking down, they saw a -canoe with an Indian in it lying close under the -bulwarks.</p> - -<p>“It’s he!” said Lord Dorchester; and a few seconds -later Roger stood in their midst.</p> - -<p>“Well, any news?” said Wolfe, coming forward.</p> - -<p>“I should not be here now if I had none,” said -Roger, in a low voice; “but first let me take off these -trappings and give me some food. I have touched -nothing for twenty-four hours, and then only a crust of -bread.”</p> - -<p>“Come into my cabin,” said Wolfe, and he led the -way.</p> - -<p>Half an hour later the chief officers on board the -<i>Sutherland</i> were summoned to the General’s cabin.</p> - -<p>Wolfe was walking up and down, two deep red spots -on his pale thin cheeks, his eyes glittering.</p> - -<p>“Gentlemen,” he said, “Captain Roger will tell you -what he has seen and heard. You will judge whether -the plan he proposes be possible; myself I tell you at -once that, notwithstanding all the apparent difficulties, -I consider it the only thing open for us to attempt; -there is a possible chance of success. Will you explain -your plan, Captain?”</p> - -<p>“It is not necessary for me to tell you,” said Roger, -“how I came by the facts I am going to lay before -you, and from them to the conception of a plan which, -though desperate, is in itself simple. You saw my -disguise. I have assumed several during the last few -days, by means of which, and by my knowledge of -Indian and Canadian habits, I have managed to -approach the different camps, and at last penetrated -even into Quebec. Here, by means of bribery, I succeeded -in being introduced into Captain Vergor’s own -quarters on the heights overlooking Quebec, and can -now assure you from personal evidence that, fully -persuaded of their secure position, they are left -practically unguarded. The officer in command goes -quietly to bed, and has, moreover, weakened his guards -by allowing the Canadians to go home to their villages -to help get in their harvest.”</p> - -<p>“But, taking all this for granted,” said Lord St. -Vincent, “we have still those heights to scale before we -can dislodge even so poor a watch.”</p> - -<p>“I am coming to that,” said Roger. “Food is not -only lacking in Quebec, but the soldiers in camp are -absolutely without bread, or even flour. The commissariat -declared yesterday it could distribute no -further rations. You may imagine the effect of this; -but they were buoyed up with the assurance that a -number of boats are coming from Quebec to the camp -with provisions. Where these boats land, we can,” said -Roger, “and I discovered that the spot fixed upon is -the Anse de Foulon, the old smuggling cove. Last -night, disguised as an Indian, I paddled into it, -accompanied by a man I have sworn not to name. He -pointed out to me what he called a path, and then -left me in terror lest we should be surprised. The -moon was fitful, if you remember, last night; nevertheless, -it sufficed me to discover what we want. It is a -steep, precipitous ascent; half-way up trees have been -felled and laid across, forming a thick abattis; then -there is a deep gap some ten feet across and six feet -deep; after this the road widens out, and though the -ascent is steep, it is comparatively easy. I will -undertake to lead a body of men to the top to-morrow night, -if you consent. We shall take Vergor and his guard by -surprise; and when this is accomplished you can land -your troops under cover of night, and by morning you -can range them in order of battle on the heights overlooking -Quebec.”</p> - -<p>“Land a whole army! It is incredible!” said Lord -St. Vincent. “Allowing that the path be unguarded, -there are sentries all along the river.”</p> - -<p>“But they are expecting their own provision boats,” -said Wolfe. “If our boats go down in advance, they -may easily mistake us for them in the darkness. -Howe, will you take the lead with Captain Roger? He -will show you the way.”</p> - -<p>“Certainly I will,” said Colonel Howe. “I have -implicit confidence in the Captain. Give us a score -of men, and we will see if we cannot reach the top -and dislodge a parcel of sleepy Frenchmen;” and he -laughed lightly, as if he had been proposing a pleasure -party.</p> - -<p>“Then, gentlemen, that is settled; to-morrow -night we make the attempt,” said Wolfe, in a decided -voice. “Captain Roger, you had better turn in and -take a good long rest,” and he held out his hand to -Roger.</p> - -<p>“Thank you, I shall be all the better for a good -sleep;” then, turning to Colonel Howe, he added, -“Unless I am very much mistaken, Colonel, you and -I shall see the sun rise over Quebec the day after -to-morrow. I am glad it should be so.”</p> - -<p>“So am I,” answered the Colonel heartily, and they -shook hands.</p> - -<p>“I think we are all glad,” said several voices.</p> - -<p>“Even if it be the dawn of my last day on earth, -I shall greet it with thankfulness,” said Wolfe, and -the council broke up for a few hours.</p> - - - - -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - -<h2 id='chXXIX' title='XXIX—ON THE PLAINS OF ABRAHAM'> - <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER XXIX</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.1em'>ON THE PLAINS OF ABRAHAM</span> -</h2> - - -<p>The following day the English vessels and boats -drifted up the river with the tide, within sight of -the French sentinels, as if they were seeking a landing -place; they had done this more or less for the last -week, so Bougainville, who was encamped on the -St. Charles, watched them without anxiety, satisfied -that they would repeat the same manœuvre on the -morrow.</p> - -<p>As night drew on, Admiral Saunders, stationed opposite -Beauport, opened fire upon the French, under -cover of which the troops were embarked. Whether -due to the excitement or to the remedies administered -by his physician, Wolfe certainly for that day -seemed to have taken a new lease of life. But in -his own mind, we are told, the certainty that his -end was near never for one moment forsook him. As -he paced up and down the <i>Sutherland</i>, gazing at -the deep blue autumnal sky overhead, to those who -watched him his pale face seemed almost transfigured -by the light and fire in his eyes. A young midshipman, -John Robinson, to whom he had shown -especial kindness, standing near him, heard him slowly -recite those words which may truly be called his death -elegy, so inseparably have they become linked with his -name:—</p> - -<div style='margin-left:2em;'> -“The boast of Heraldry, the pomp of Pow’r,<br/> -And all that Beauty, all that Wealth e’er gave<br/> -Await alike the inevitable hour:<br/> -The paths of glory lead but to the grave.” -</div> - -<p>And, seeing that the lad was watching him, he laid -his hand on his shoulder, adding, “I had rather be the -author of that poem than take Quebec.”</p> - -<p>At two o’clock on the morning of the 13th, the -signal was given for the troops to enter the boats, -and seventeen hundred men took their places in them, -and slowly drifted down the stream to their destination.</p> - -<p>The French sentries placed along the shore, notwithstanding -the darkness, became aware of a more -than usual traffic on the river, and challenged them.</p> - -<p>“<i>Qui vive?</i>”</p> - -<p>“France,” answered Colonel Howe.</p> - -<p>“Which regiment?”</p> - -<p>“<i>La Reine</i>,” answered the same officer, who knew -that Bougainville commanded part of that regiment, -and so they passed on. Lower down the river they -were once more challenged. This time the answer was, -“Provision boats. Don’t make a noise, the English -will hear us.”</p> - -<p>In the darkness, Captain Roger, Colonel Howe, and -twenty-four volunteers rowed up to the low sandy -beach at the foot of the crags, which seemed to rise -perpendicularly from the water’s edge.</p> - -<p>The volunteers were picked men. A few of Roger’s -best Rangers were amongst them. No sentry was on -the shore; no alarm was given.</p> - -<p>The order for perfect silence had been issued, and -Roger leading the way, as noiselessly as possible the -ascent was begun. Like shadows they moved up the -pathway, crawling often on their hands and knees, -the foremost removing obstacles for those who came -after, till at last they gained the top, and saw before -them the cluster of white tents. No word of command -was given. That silent group of brave men realised to -the full at that moment that victory or defeat was -in their hands, and with the impulse to conquer or to -die in the attempt, they rushed into the sleeping camp -before the slightest sound announced their presence. -Captain Vergor was in bed; he was shot, but not -mortally, and made prisoner. The same fate awaited -others, but in the darkness the greater number of the -French fled. Then there arose from the heights such -a cheer as only true-born Britons can give forth in the -hour of triumph, and it was answered from below by -men waiting breathlessly in the boats to know whether -they too might scale the long dark slope of the woody -precipice—the path to victory! General Wolfe was the -first to leap ashore, and in his excitement he struck -the earth with his sword’s point, as if claiming it -for Old England.</p> - -<p>And then the ascent began, each man with his -musket slung over his shoulder. Trenches were leapt, -abattis were broken through; the stream of men came -pouring up from the boats, which, as soon as they -were emptied, rowed back to the ships and brought -more, until all the troops were landed.</p> - -<p>The day was hardly dawning when Wolfe stood -with the advanced troops on the heights. Anxiously, -with penetrating eyes, he gazed in the direction -from whence he supposed the French would come. -At the expiration of an hour, when almost all the -English troops had reached the summit, a cloud of -dust, like smoke, with flashes of light, was seen on -the horizon.</p> - -<p>“The French!” said Wolfe calmly, pointing to the -long line growing ever more and more distinct in the -increasing morning light. On an open tract of grass, -interspersed with cornfields, having on one side the -St. Lawrence, and sloping down on the other to the -St. Charles, General Wolfe and his officers stationed -the English army, numbering in all three thousand -five hundred men; and there, on the ever-celebrated -Plains of Abraham, they awaited their adversaries.</p> - -<p>Montcalm, when first informed of the landing of the -English, exclaimed,—</p> - -<p>“It can be but a small party come to burn a few -houses and retire.”</p> - -<p>He sent at once to Vaudreuil, who was quartered -near Quebec, but receiving no answer, at six o’clock he -mounted, and, accompanied by Langlade and Johnstone, -rode towards the town. As he crossed the St. Charles, -he saw on the heights above Quebec the long red line -of the English army calmly awaiting him. He knew -now that it must be fought out. He turned his -horse’s head to the Governor’s quarters; a short and -sharp altercation ensued, and then Montcalm, joining -his army, rode towards the battle-field, where already -the battalion of Guienne had taken up its position. -The white-and-blue uniforms of the regular French -army, flanked by the sombre-clad Canadians, were -clearly visible; whilst the Indians in their war-paint, -with their waving plumes and steel hatchets, were -stationed some twenty paces in advance, with orders -to throw themselves into the first breach made in the -English ranks by the French balls.</p> - -<p>To the sound of the drums the five battalions of -Grenadiers, in their long black gaiters, marched to the -front. Arrived within forty paces of the English, they -halted, and the two armies, face to face with each -other, waited in solemn, silent hesitation. Old enemies -on a new soil, on how many a European battle-field -had their forefathers fought for dominion! And now -they waited, awed, on this virgin soil, who should -begin this mortal duel.</p> - -<p>In a clear voice the word of command flew along -the English line. A sound as of thunder broke forth, -rolling along, to be repeated in continuous roar; and -as the smoke cleared off, in the French ranks there -were deep gaps, as if a scythe had passed through -cutting them down. The battle was begun.</p> - -<p>Another volley, and yet another. The militia, which -was interspersed with the regular French troops, unable -any longer to stand the fire, hesitated. Montcalm -saw it.</p> - -<p>“Forward, forward!” he cried, showing with the -point of his sword the English ranks still unmoved. -At the same moment a ball struck him.</p> - -<div id='i001' class='mt01 mb01 i001'> - <img src='images/illus-001.jpg' alt='' style='width:100%' /> -</div> - -<p>“You are wounded, General,” said an officer beside -him.</p> - -<p>“It is of no account, sir. Ride forward and rally the -Canadians; they are retreating.” Himself he sprang -forward into their midst.</p> - -<p>“Courage, my children, courage!” he cried; but -another ball struck him, and his white uniform was -stained with blood.</p> - -<p>“Support me; do not let them see me fall,” he -murmured, striving with a superhuman will to keep -himself erect.</p> - -<p>At that moment Wolfe gave the order to charge, and -the wild yell of the Highlanders, mingled with the -British cheer, rose loud and fierce.</p> - -<p>A shot shattered Wolfe’s wrist; he wrapped his handkerchief -round it and went on. A second shot struck -him; he still advanced. A third pierced his breast; he -staggered and fell. Then the officers surrounding him -carried him to the rear.</p> - -<p>“Send for a surgeon,” said Lord St. Vincent.</p> - -<p>“There is no need; it is all over with me,” he -answered.</p> - -<p>“They run; see how they run!” cried some -one.</p> - -<p>“Who run?” asked Wolfe, with a sudden return to -life.</p> - -<p>“The enemy, sir; they give way everywhere.”</p> - -<p>“Tell Colonel Burton to cut off their retreat from -the bridge,” he said; and turning on his side, he added, -“Now, God be praised, I will die in peace.”</p> - -<p>A few minutes later, for him the battle of life was -over.</p> - -<p>But to his country he left a rich heritage, with -which his name is ever linked in high honour. Canada -became then and is now one of the brightest jewels of -the British Empire. She was bought with the price -of many a young and noble life, but, ever loyal and true -to England and her sovereigns, she has proved herself -worthy of the sacrifice.</p> - -<p>Canada has, moreover, taught the world the lesson -that two peoples, supposed to be antagonistic, can live -together in perfect peace and harmony, side by side -in the same cities, each speaking their own language -and retaining their own customs. The wisdom and -conciliatory policy of the British Government effected -this union, which has been pacifically maintained ever -since. The French population, which far outnumbered -the English, finding themselves treated with justice, -and, instead of being driven forth, encouraged to remain -in the land, assured of religious freedom and the equity -of the laws, willingly submitted to the new rule, and -have proved as faithful subjects as their English -brethren.</p> - - - - -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - -<h2 id='chXXX' title='XXX—THE VANQUISHED'> - <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER XXX</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.1em'>THE VANQUISHED</span> -</h2> - - -<p>The Indians had fought bravely. Charles Langlade -and their chief Ominipeg had kept them steady. -Long after the Canadians were in full retreat they lay -behind a mound firing without ceasing on the English, -who were advancing upon them. Then a strange thing -happened.</p> - -<p>Ominipeg stood on a grassy knoll, on the left side of -which were high bushes, and looked around upon the -battle-field. He knew that Montcalm was wounded; -he saw the Canadians flying before the English: the -cause was lost; he and his tribe would ere long be -prisoners.</p> - -<p>The Black Eagle could not brook defeat. Charles -Langlade, lying on the ground at a little distance firing -on the English, saw him suddenly stoop behind the -bushes and gather something in his arms. A cry, a -child’s cry, even through the din of battle reached his -ears, and a terrified baby face, round which the soft -fair curls clustered, appeared before his agonised gaze. -To spring forward to seize him would have been the -work of a second, but Ominipeg was too quick for him. -Clasping the child tightly in his arms, with horrible -cries, brandishing his enormous battle-axe, the Indian -chief, followed by his whole tribe, dashed into the -midst of the enemy.</p> - -<p>The yells and war-whoops of the savages gradually -died out as the English bayonets pierced their naked -bodies, and they lay upon the ground a bleeding mass -of humanity. They had fulfilled their code of honour; -they had died for the cause they could not save!</p> - -<p>And the Black Eagle, with his daughter’s child, the -little “White Chief,” as he had been surnamed, lay -foremost among the slain. A shot had struck Charles -Langlade to the ground before he could advance a step -to save the child.</p> - -<p>That morning, at early dawn, when the first alarm -had reached Quebec, a young Indian had passed -rapidly through the streets, gained the house inhabited -by Mercèdes, and knocked loudly at the door of her -apartment.</p> - -<p>“Who is there?” asked Marthe.</p> - -<p>“Langlade; open quickly,” was the answer. She -hastened to obey; the Indian glided into the room, -looked round, and saw the child sleeping in its little bed. -To snatch it in his arms, smothering its cries, and disappear -with it, was the work of a second.</p> - -<p>Roused by the noise, Mercèdes came running in, -but the child was gone. Marthe was wringing her -hands, and in short, incoherent phrases told Mercèdes -what had happened.</p> - -<p>But events were to succeed each other so rapidly that -they had hardly time to breathe, much more think. -So accustomed had they become to the bombardment -of the city that, though it sounded more continuous -and louder than usual that morning, they attached no -especial importance to it; but a nun with a white, -terrified face came to them from the Superior, bidding -them repair at once to the General Hospital, that the -English were on the Heights of Abraham, and that -a great battle was being fought. Wrapping their -black cloaks around them, and drawing their hoods -over their heads in such a way as to conceal their -faces, they hastened to obey, passing quickly through -the streets, in some parts crowded by frightened -citizens driven forth from their half-ruined houses, in -others swept clean by the bombs which came whizzing -down from the English batteries. Very white and fixed -was the young novice’s face as she glided along. She -suddenly came to a standstill, almost in front of the -Church of the Ursulines, where a crowd was gathered, -which opened to let a party of soldiers, carrying a -litter which had been hastily constructed out of guns -crossed one over the other, pass on their way.</p> - -<p>The brilliant rays of the sun fell full upon the livid -face of the man who lay thereon. The waxen features -were thrown into relief by the black military cloak -around him.</p> - -<p>Not a cry escaped Mercèdes’ lips, though in that second -she had had time enough to recognise her father; but -like an arrow she flew to his side. One of the officers -knew her, and gently and pityingly made way for her, -and she entered the church with the litter; then the -heavy doors were closed to keep back the surging crowd. -Slowly, with measured steps, surrounded by his officers, -they bore him up the nave; in front of the high -altar the soldiers laid down their precious burden, and -Mercèdes, kneeling beside him, raised his hand to her -lips. He made no sign of being even aware of her -presence; his eyes were fixed, his features immovable; -his soul was still on the battle-field in the agony of -that first moment of defeat. A surgeon had been -hastily summoned, who examined the patient and -probed the wound; but not a muscle of Montcalm’s face -moved even under that agony. When it was over, and -a temporary dressing had been applied, he said, “Well, -sir, how long have I to live?”</p> - -<p>“General,” answered the surgeon, in a low, pained -voice, “a few hours only.”</p> - -<p>“All the better,” he said. “I shall not see the -English enter Quebec,” and he closed his eyes. Notwithstanding -the wounds received on the battle-field, -borne by the tide of the fugitives the General had -ridden into Quebec at the head of the army, crossed -the bridge under the northern rampart, and entered -the palace gate. At that moment another shot reached -him, which, passing through his body, proved fatal, -and he was half lifted, half fell from his horse; and -so it came to pass that his soldiers bore him into the -Church of the Ursulines.</p> - -<p>Mercèdes and Marthe tended him. Quiet and loving -were the words which from time to time he spoke to -them. A few only of those who surrounded them knew -that the pale-faced novice was his daughter. Michel, -the gardener of the Ursuline Convent, fetched and -carried for them, and so that fatal day drew to an end.</p> - -<p>Towards evening, Ramsay, the new Governor, came -and asked Montcalm’s advice as to how he might best -defend Quebec.</p> - -<p>“Have you any orders to give me, General?” he -asked.</p> - -<p>“Sir,” answered Montcalm, “I deliver into your -hands the honour of France. I shall spend my night -with God preparing to die.”</p> - -<p>Then he asked for pen and paper, and desired one -of his officers to write at his dictation:—</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p>“<span class='sc'>General</span>,—The humanity of the English sets my -mind at peace concerning the fate of the French -prisoners and the Canadians.</p> - -<p>“May you feel towards them as they have caused -me to feel for them. Do not let them feel that they -have changed masters. Be their protector, as I have -been their father.”</p> - -</blockquote> - -<p>“Let this letter be sent without delay to General -Wolfe,” he said, when with difficulty he had succeeded -in signing it.</p> - -<p>“It is rumoured that James Wolfe is either dead or -dying,” replied one of his officers.</p> - -<p>“He also!” said Montcalm. “At least he is happier -than I am,” he added; “he dies in the midst of his -country’s triumph.”</p> - -<p>Shortly after this his face became livid. His sufferings -were intense; he could only from time to time -give utterance to a few words in a low voice to -Mercèdes, tender remembrances for the loved ones at -home! About midnight the Bishop Pont Briand administered -the last Sacraments of the Church in which -he had lived and was now dying.</p> - -<p>Gently, almost painlessly, he lingered until the dawn -of a new day, and as the light began to creep into the -sacred building his eyes closed. When the surgeon, -who had never left him, saw the eyelids droop, he -shook his head sadly, slipped his hand under the white -uniform so deeply stained with blood, and waited a few -minutes, then he rose.</p> - -<p>“Gentlemen,” he said, turning to the group of -officers who stood watching, “that great heart has -ceased to beat.”</p> - -<p>Mercèdes never moved, her head was bowed low on -her father’s bier; Marthe alone wept, kneeling there -beside her master.</p> - -<p>Then suddenly the doors of the church were thrown -open, and the crowd which had been waiting patiently -outside came flocking up the nave. Soldiers of that -poor defeated army, inhabitants of Quebec, Canadians, -savages, pressed around to take a last look at the -brave General who had so gallantly defended them. -In the dim morning light the torches flared, showing -the half-ruined church, the roof laid open, through -which the sky looked down, shattered pillars, the -pavement torn up by bombs which in bursting had -made deep holes; and in the centre of all this ruin, -surrounded by his officers, lay that still figure wrapped -in his black mantle, looking grander in death than he -had done in life.</p> - -<p>In the afternoon of the same day they carried him -into the forsaken garden of the Convent of the Ursulines. -The bursting of a shell dug his grave, and -there they laid him, all who had known and loved him -grieving, not for the hero so much as for the man.</p> - -<p>Throughout that night two women knelt and prayed -beside that lonely grave.</p> - - - - -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - -<h2 id='chXXXI' title='XXXI—WEARY WAITING'> - <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER XXXI</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.1em'>WEARY WAITING</span> -</h2> - - -<p>“No news of the lads yet, Martha! Will they never -come home?” said Nathaniel impatiently, as he -sat in the wide porch of Alpha Marsh one bright -autumn day.</p> - -<p>“No, there be no news,” answered Martha sadly; -“and yet they say the fighting’s over for the present. -I’m minded, if they’ve not both been killed, they’ll be -here before long.”</p> - -<p>“Both killed! Our bonnie lads, Martha? Nay, -I cannot think God would have spared my life and -taken them. I’m not of much account now,” and he -looked at his arm, which hung helpless in his coatsleeve.</p> - -<p>“You’ve no need to fret; you’re wonderfully better,” -said Martha. “And as for the lads, it isn’t likely they’re -together; they’ll be dropping in when we least expect -them, one after the other.”</p> - -<p>“God grant it,” said Nat; “but somehow I always -see them together;” and he rose from his chair, and -went and stood by the wicket gate, looking down the -road which skirted the forest and led to the village.</p> - -<p>During the year which had elapsed since the Indians -invaded Marshwood, it had gradually resumed its -former appearance of happy prosperity. Most of the -houses destroyed by the fire had been rebuilt; a fresh -harvest had been gathered in; and if some hearts -still ached for those who had fallen, time was gradually -softening the horrors of that terrible night, and casting -a halo over the memory of the lost.</p> - -<p>Early the previous spring Martha Langlade had -returned to Alpha Marsh, bringing little Susie with -her, though in truth she was “little Susie” no longer, -but a tall fine girl, very proud of her knowledge of city -life, and only desirous of returning to Boston, where -they had left Marie, the happy bride of young William -Parkmann.</p> - -<p>Nathaniel Boscowen had to a great extent recovered -his health; his arm alone was still powerless; but as -time went on his restless longing for the return of the -“lads,” as he called them, grew painfully intense. The -news of the fall of Quebec, and of both Montcalm’s and -Wolfe’s death, had reached him in due time, and from -that hour he had, so to speak, waited by night and by -day.</p> - -<p>“They’ll be here to-morrow,” he would say, with -a sigh, when Loïs bade him “Good-night”; and she -would answer with a smile which grew every day -fainter,—</p> - -<p>“Yes, Father Nat; they’ll be here to-morrow.”</p> - -<p>Several companies of Rangers had returned to their -homes, bringing the assurance that Roger was alive, -that they had seen him after the battle; but of -Charles there was no news, and Loïs, like Nathaniel, -waited, going patiently about her daily work, with that -look of hungry longing which grows in women’s eyes -from “hope deferred.”</p> - -<p>Between her and Roger there had been no words -of reconciliation, but, beside Nadjii’s grave, when they -laid her to rest under the shadow of the great oak -tree in the home meadow, and in the long night -watches by Father Nat’s bedside, the hardness had -melted out of Roger’s face; their hands had touched, -their eyes had looked into each other’s; once more -it was “Loïs” and “Roger.” And so, through all -the months of sadness and loneliness after he left -them, Loïs bore up bravely, for hope, blessed hope, was -hers.</p> - -<p>She worked as she had never done before, comforting -the widows and clothing and feeding the orphan -children. Love gave her strength as only love can. -Through the bright short spring and long summer -days she waited, with the never-ceasing prayer upon -her lips for “Peace, blessed peace.” But now for -many weeks she had had no news, save what the stray -home-comers had brought; and yet the war was over—the -English were masters of Quebec. Why then did -Roger linger?</p> - -<p>Of late the habit had come to her of going to the -upper windows and looking out over the country. -Vague rumours of Charles’ death had reached both -her and Marcus, but by common consent they hid -it from Martha and Father Nat, who always repeated, -“The two will come together. Many things may -have happened to detain them on the road,” and both -she and Marcus were thankful he should think thus. -But the winter was fast approaching, and then the -land would be icebound, and long dreary months must -elapse before they could hope to see the wanderers. -Oh, how earnestly Loïs prayed for news, only for news, -of them, and it came to pass that her prayer was -granted. But alas, how?</p> - -<p>Loïs was always up betimes. All the dairy work fell -to her lot, and Martha had been ailing lately, fretting -for Charles, they all knew. As she stood in the dairy, -pouring the new milk, which the maids had just -brought in, from the pails into the earthen pans for -setting, the old Indian woman Nokomis crept up to -her with a mysterious look on her face.</p> - -<p>“Well, Nokomis, what has happened? Have you -burnt the cakes for breakfast?” asked Loïs.</p> - -<p>She shook her grisly head and answered slowly, -“Alas, alas, mistress! there be those who will never -eat of my cakes again, and yet he loved them! Old -Nokomis’ cakes—he’d take them half-baked out of the -oven, for the smell of them!”</p> - -<p>“Who are you speaking of?” said Loïs, hastily -putting down the half-empty pail.</p> - -<p>“Who should I speak of if not of the young -master? Ah, it was an evil day when Boscowen -and Langlade parted; they’ll never come together -again.”</p> - -<p>“What have you heard?” said Loïs, turning deadly -pale.</p> - -<p>“The boy’s there; he can speak,” said Nokomis.</p> - -<p>“What boy?” asked Loïs. “Oh, Nokomis, if there -be news of Roger and Charles, do not keep me waiting.”</p> - -<p>Thus adjured, the Indian woman went to the door, -made a sign to some one, and in another minute an -Indian youth entered and stood before Loïs.</p> - -<p>“What have you to tell me?” she asked tremulously.</p> - -<p>The boy answered,—</p> - -<p>“I am Nadjii’s brother. I carried the boy away, -but the White Chief, his father, found him, and -would have hidden him from Ominipeg, but he could -not; the ‘Black Eagle’ took him, and carried him -into the battle, and they were killed together. And -last of all the White Chief was killed; I saw him -fall. They are all gone into the land of the Great -Spirit.”</p> - -<p>“Do you mean to say my brother is dead?” said -Loïs, leaning against the wall to keep herself from -falling.</p> - -<p>“Yes, I mean it; they are all dead, and I will stay -here and serve you. I loved the White Chief, and -I served him. He told me many things. I will live -with the white man, and pray to the Great Spirit -Jesus”; and suiting the action to the word, he sat -down upon the floor, in token that he meant to abide -there.</p> - -<p>Silence, a dead silence, fell upon them. The early -morning light came creeping in through the windows, -a pale autumn light with no warmth or brightness in -it. A chill feeling of despair overpowered Loïs; she -looked at the dark messenger. Could he be speaking -the truth? Might he not be mistaken? But she knew -the Indian lad; he had often brought her messages -from Charles, even when he was a mere child; now -he was about fifteen, and there was no reason why he -should deceive her. What should she do with him? -If she took him into the kitchen the rest of the family -would see him, and the news he brought would spread -from mouth to mouth, until it reached the ears of her -mother and Father Nat. At present this must be -avoided.</p> - -<p>“How have you travelled?” she asked. “And how -long have you been on the road?”</p> - -<p>“I travelled the same way as the hunters, through -the forests. I have come often before; I know the -way,” said the boy. “The moon was new when I -started; it is full now.”</p> - -<p>“You must be tired; you had better rest. Nokomis, -take him to the attic next yours in Omega Marsh, -and be careful that neither my mother nor Father -Nat sees him, until I tell you. Give him bread and -meat, and all he needs. You will keep quiet for a -day or two, until I know what to do,” she said to the -boy.</p> - -<p>Her eyes were full of tears, her lips trembled; she -never for one moment doubted the truth of the story -he told. Her brother was dead, the child was dead, -and Roger—where was he?</p> - -<p>Nokomis signed to the Indian to follow her, and -skirting the outhouses, they reached the back entrance -to Omega Marsh, which was at present only -inhabited by herself and one or two men, Father -Nat having remained since his illness at Alpha -Marsh.</p> - -<p>“You lie quiet here. Nokomis bring you food: you -sleep; no work.” And to this pleasant prospect the -Indian readily acquiesced. Nevertheless Nokomis, -when she left him, took the precaution of turning -the key and putting it in her pocket.</p> - -<p>Two days later, when she went in the early morning -to take him his food, he was gone; the dormer -window was open, and, looking out, she knew he had -escaped by the roof. Here and there a creeper had -been loosened, and in the grass and on the ground -below she saw traces of feet—not the Indian’s naked -feet only, but the print of a woman’s shoe; and she -stood and looked, then went across to Alpha Marsh, -her eyes fixed on the ground, like a dog on the -scent. As she passed Bob’s kennel she saw it was -empty.</p> - -<p>“Bob, Bob!” she called. There was no answer. -“He gone too,” she muttered between her teeth. -Taking the key of the back kitchen from the hiding place -where she put it every night, she entered, -looked round, went into the pantry, examined the -safe in which cold meats and other provisions were -kept, lifted the cover of the bread-bin, and counted -the loaves. While she was thus occupied Marcus -entered.</p> - -<p>“What are you doing, Nokomis?” he asked, watching -her curiously for a few seconds.</p> - -<p>“Where’s Loïs?” she asked, looking up at -him.</p> - -<p>“Not yet up, I suppose,” he answered. “She’s overslept -herself—an unusual thing for her.”</p> - -<p>“You go and look in her room. I tell you she’s -gone.”</p> - -<p>“Gone! Where should she be gone?” said -Marcus.</p> - -<p>“To bring the lads home,” said Nokomis; and then -for the first time Marcus heard of the arrival of the -Indian lad, the story he related, and how he had -disappeared.</p> - -<p>“Why did she not tell me?” he thought bitterly; -and yet his faith in Loïs was so great that he checked -the angry feeling, and went straight up to her room. -There he found the confirmation of Nokomis’ words. -The bed had not been slept in; Loïs was gone! But -surely not without a word! No, there on the table -was a letter addressed to himself.</p> - -<blockquote> -<p>“<span class='sc'>Dear Marcus</span>,—Forgive me,” she wrote. “For the -last two days and nights I have prayed unceasingly for -God to guide me, and it has been borne in upon me -that, notwithstanding all the Indian lad tells me, -Charles and the child are still living. At first I did not -think so; but now I do. I know where Charles put -the child—in the Convent of the Ursulines at Quebec; -I am going there. Tell Father Nat and the mother -that I have had news of Charles; that he needs me, -therefore I am gone to him. They shall hear soon; -but do not let them know the rumour of his death. -Why should they grieve, perhaps without a cause? I -have taken money, my Indian guide, and Bob. Have -no fear for me; God and His angels will guide my -steps. I am going forth in His strength, without fear, -to bring our dear ones home. Pray for me, and tell -John Cleveland to pray for me in the congregation -on the Sabbath Day, until I come back to you all, and -we settle down in peace. I go without warning you; -not from mistrust, but because I know you would wish -to go in my stead, and that must not be. You are all -that is left to us. If harm befell you, the Marshes -would indeed be without a master and desolate. I am -only a woman!</p> - -<div style='text-align:right; margin-right:4em;'>“Your loving sister,</div> -<div style='text-align:right'>“<span class='sc'>Loïs</span>.”</div> - -</blockquote> - -<p>“And truly a brave one!” said John Cleveland, -when he had read the letter, which Marcus took -straight down to the minister’s house. “You can but -do as she says; tell Father Nat she has been sent for, -and is gone on the road to meet Charles. You may -be sure she’ll manage to send us news before many -days are over; we’ll just live from day to day in hope -and prayer. If any one can bring the lads home, -Loïs can. Go about your work as usual, Marcus; tell -Nokomis to keep a silent tongue in her head. I’ll -come up and see your mother and Father Nat. No -need to say she’s gone to Quebec: we don’t know -whether she’ll ever get there; maybe she’ll meet them -on the road.”</p> - -<p>Marcus shook his head.</p> - -<p>“I do not think there is much chance of that,” he -said.</p> - -<p>“How dare you say so?” said John Cleveland -sharply; “and you who would be a minister and teach -others. With God nothing is impossible. Have faith, -lad—faith which can remove mountains,” and he -clapped him on the shoulder, adding, “And now I’ll -just let my missis know I’m going to breakfast up at the -Marshes. I won’t leave you to face Father Nat alone. -How he’ll live the day through without Loïs, his right -hand, is more than I can tell. She thinks she’s of no -account because she’s a woman, but we men should be -badly off without our womankind, even though there -are not many like our Loïs. I only want to live long -enough to give her and Roger my blessing on their -wedding-day, and I believe I shall, and that before -long.”</p> - -<p>It was no easy matter to hoodwink Father Nat. But -she was gone; there was no remedy: they could not -go after her, not knowing which way she had taken; -and so, when Martha wept and wailed “that all -her children were going from her,” Nathaniel said -quietly,—</p> - -<p>“She’s a wise and a good lass, and the Lord is with -her. No harm will come to her, and maybe she’ll bring -both the lads back.”</p> - -<p>And so they watched and waited at the Marshes, -and the snow fell covering the earth, and the rivers -were icebound, and still there was no news of the -wanderers.</p> - - - - -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - -<h2 id='chXXXII' title='XXXII—ON THE BATTLE-FIELD'> - <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER XXXII</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.1em'>ON THE BATTLE-FIELD</span> -</h2> - - -<p>The silver light of the moon was shining down on the -battle-field, where the dead and dying lay in hideous -confusion, the night after the fray. Dark figures -moved stealthily to and fro, lanterns flashed on ghastly -upturned faces, piteous voices called for help, hands -were stretched out praying for mercy, too often only -to meet death and spoliation. Birds of prey hovered -overhead. Alas for poor human nature! there were -those abroad who reverenced neither heroism nor death, -but laid rude hands on their fellow-men, robbing and -mutilating the prostrate forms as they lay writhing in -death’s agony.</p> - -<p>A group of half a dozen men in the well-known dress -of the Royal Rangers had found their way to that part -of the battle-field where the Indians had made their -last fierce onslaught. The near approach of death had -not extinguished the passionate instincts of hatred and -revenge; more than once the treacherous knife gleamed -in a dying hand seeking still to slay. Every precaution -had to be taken by the searchers, as they picked their -way over the ground strewn so thickly with the dead -and dying, to avoid the murderous thrusts.</p> - -<p>“Look here, Captain!” and the speaker, a young -man, pointed to where a red chief lay, with a little -child clasped in his arms. A shot had pierced the baby -heart, in kindly mercy quieting for ever its wild -fluttering; but the blue eyes were wide open still, and -retained that look of terror mirrored in them which -gleamed there when death came, and the long fair -curls were dabbled in blood.</p> - -<p>The man who had been addressed as Captain stood -looking down upon the group. Pain, bitter pain, was -visible in every line of his face. “It is Ominipeg,” -he said, and stooping, he lifted the dead child in his -arms and wrapped it in his bearskin. He and his -companions knew enough of Indian customs to understand -how that infant came by his death—a chief’s son -in the foremost ranks of the slain!</p> - -<p>They renewed their search; and, at last, amidst -those dark naked figures, with their wild headgear -and strange fantastic war-paint, they found him they -sought. He was lying propped up against a tree; -evidently, when the battle was over, he had dragged -himself thither. Was he dead? Roger bent eagerly -over him, and took the hand which hung listlessly by -his side.</p> - -<p>“Charles,” he said; and the strong man’s voice -trembled.</p> - -<p>“Roger, am I dreaming, or have you come to take -me home?”</p> - -<p>The drooping head is raised, and the cold fingers -close over Roger’s.</p> - -<p>“We will go home together,” he said. “Are you -much hurt, Charles?”</p> - -<p>“I do not know,” he answered dreamily. “Is the -battle over? Are we beaten?”</p> - -<p>“The battle is ended,” said Roger; “and God grant -it may be our last,” and he signed to his men that the -search was finished, that their help was needed. They -lifted the wounded man in their arms and slowly bore -him off the battle-field to where in the moonlight -clustered the white tents of the Rangers, and there -they laid him down.</p> - -<p>Quebec had capitulated, notwithstanding Levis’ rapid -march to its relief. Ramsay paid but little attention to -Montcalm’s last words, and, encouraged by Vaudreuil, -on the 18th surrendered to the English. Honourable -terms were granted. The garrison was to march out -with the honours of war, and the troops be carried -back to France on English ships; the inhabitants to -have protection in person and property, free exercise -of their religion, and all other privileges of British -subjects. These conditions having been formally agreed -to and signed, the British flag was raised on the heights -near Mount Street, and General Murray was named -Governor of Quebec.</p> - -<p>As soon as he could do so, Roger had brought Charles -into the city. He was unconscious at the time, and -the military surgeon gave but faint hope of his recovery. -It was a battle between life and death, but youth and a -strong constitution aiding, Roger was at last rewarded -by seeing Charles enter upon what might be called -convalescence; but by that time winter had set in, -and there was no possibility of communicating with -Marshwood. “I ought to have thought of sending a -messenger immediately after the battle,” Roger said; -“but I didn’t know quite what you meant to do, so -I waited, and now it is too late.” So time passed on.</p> - -<p>One evening, a lady, deeply veiled, came to the -house where the two friends lodged, and, asking to -see Mr. Langlade, was admitted.</p> - -<p>Charles was seated in an armchair near the large -open fireplace; he turned as the stranger entered, and, -when she raised her veil, exclaimed, “Madame Péan!”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” she said, coming forward; “I heard you were -in Quebec, where I myself have been detained by -severe illness, and I have come to you with a message -from Mercèdes Montcalm.”</p> - -<p>“She is well, I trust?” said Charles, in a low voice.</p> - -<p>“Yes, she is,” answered Madame Péan, “and the -day after to-morrow she takes the veil. I have done -the best I could to dissuade her, offering to take her -back with me to France in the spring, but she will -not listen to me; her place, she says, is by her father’s -grave, in the convent garden, and the Bishop and -Mother Superior have consented to shorten her -novitiate. One thing troubles her, the loss of the -child committed to her care by you. When I heard you -were in Quebec I told her, and she entreated me to -come to you without delay, to hear what had become -of the child.”</p> - -<p>“He is dead,” said Charles; “his mother’s tribe -stole him, lest he should be made a prisoner, and he -was killed. Tell her this, or not, as you deem best.”</p> - -<p>“If you will, you can tell her yourself,” said Madame. -“She bids farewell to her friends to-night; if you come -to the convent, you can have speech with her for the -last time.”</p> - -<p>“I will come,” said Charles, his pale face flushing.</p> - -<p>“She thought you would,” said Madame; “she has -not many friends to whom to bid farewell, and the -General loved you.”</p> - -<p>“Not better than I loved him,” said Charles, rousing -himself. “Tell Mademoiselle Mercèdes I will be at -the convent to-night after vespers; and thank you a -thousand times for coming to me. I would not have -missed seeing her once more, for all the world,” and -he held out his hand to Madame Péan.</p> - -<p>“I guessed as much,” she answered. Their eyes -met, and she slowly shook her head. “It is too late,” -she said; “all that was earthly in her heart and soul -has dropped away from her and lies buried in her -father’s grave. She has no thoughts left which are not -of heaven. And now I will leave you. As soon as to-morrow’s -ceremony is over I go to Montreal. Is there -any service I can render you? any request you have -to make to Chevalier Levis? He is well aware how you -have behaved throughout the war, and would be only -too glad if you would join his poor remnant of an -army, with which he still hopes to wrest Canada from -the English.”</p> - -<p>Charles shook his head.</p> - -<p>“He will never do that,” he said. “The cause is lost; -he will only uselessly sacrifice fresh lives. Is it not -so, Roger?”</p> - -<p>“Most certainly it is. But, Madame,” said Roger, -“if you would do my friend a real service, it would be -to obtain from the Chevalier for him and for me a free -pass through all the country still occupied by the -French troops. We are anxious to return to our people, -but without this it would be almost impossible during -the winter; we should have to take such a circuitous -route, and my friend’s health is not sufficiently recovered -to resist the cold and fatigue; if we can pass through -Montreal, it will shorten the journey greatly.”</p> - -<p>“I will do my best,” said Madame Péan. “And now -farewell; we are none of us likely to meet again in this -world. When the last French ship leaves the shores -of Canada, I shall sail in her, and go back to old -France.” She dropped her veil and rose. Charles also -rose, and silently they shook hands; then Roger re-conducted -her to her carriage, and they took leave of -each other.</p> - -<p>She had said truly they were never to meet again.</p> - -<p>That evening, as he had promised, Charles went alone -to the convent. He waited what seemed to him an -eternity in the parlour, watching anxiously a grated -window in the wall, across which was a dark curtain; -at last he saw it slowly drawn back, and on the -opposite side, with a face almost as white as her veil, -stood Mercèdes.</p> - -<p>“Thank you for coming,” she said, in a low, calm -voice. “Before bidding my last farewell to the world, -I desired greatly to see you, to tell you how I have -grieved for the child you committed to my care. I -loved him very dearly. I would not have parted from -him if I could possibly have done otherwise; but we -were taken by surprise. Before even Marthe, who was -in the room with him, was aware of it, he was gone; we -had no time to prevent it; he was truly spirited away. -I pray you forgive me: it has been a bitter grief to me.”</p> - -<p>“Forgive you!” exclaimed Charles. “Surely you -never for one moment thought I blamed either you or -Marthe? Knowing the Indians would use every means -in their power to get hold of my poor little son, I -placed him with you, believing he must be safe in the -convent. How could either of us imagine you would -be driven out into the world again? How can I harbour -one thought of blame against you! Indeed, I almost -think it best for him to be at rest. Had he lived, his -would have been a very divided life. He must have -suffered, and I for him. I am content. It is well with -the child.”</p> - -<p>“I am thankful to hear you speak thus,” answered -Mercèdes. “Truly all God does is well done. And now, -Monsieur Langlade, I will bid you farewell. You will -go back to the world to which, to-morrow, I shall for -ever bid adieu; but I wish to thank you for many -pleasant hours and for much kindness, but, above all -things, for your faithfulness to my dear father. I beg -you to cherish his memory, and be assured I shall ever -remember you in my prayers.”</p> - -<p>“No one who has ever lived with General Montcalm -as I have can possibly forget him. I shall cherish his -memory as long as I live,” said Charles, with deep -emotion.</p> - -<p>“Thanks, I am glad to think it will be so,” and a -faint smile lighted up her pale face. “Adieu!” and she -passed her hand between the iron bars. “Wear this -in remembrance of him,” she added, slipping a ring of -great price on his finger.</p> - -<p>“I will never part with it. Adieu,” repeated Charles, -and stooping, he touched the tips of her fingers with his -lips. When he raised his head she had disappeared.</p> - -<p>The following morning he was amongst the spectators -who witnessed the ceremony of Mercèdes Montcalm -taking the veil, and as he left the chapel his heart was -very sad within him.</p> - -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - -<h2 id='chXXXIII' title='XXXIII—A LONG JOURNEY'> - <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER XXXIII</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.1em'>A LONG JOURNEY</span> -</h2> - -<p>“Reverend Mother, there is a woman at the gate -with an Indian lad and a big dog. She is asking -to speak with one ‘Mercèdes Montcalm,’” said old -Michel, the gardener and doorkeeper of the convent.</p> - -<p>“It is late, Michel; we cannot let strangers in at -this hour. Tell her she must return to-morrow,” said -the Reverend Mother of the Ursulines.</p> - -<p>“I told her as much,” said Michel; “but she bade -me say she had travelled from the far west, that she -was very weary, and knew not where to go. She gave -me this,” and he handed her a slip of paper.</p> - -<p>“I am Loïs Langlade, Charles Langlade’s sister, and -am come to fetch the child my brother gave in charge -to Mercèdes Montcalm.”</p> - -<p>“Poor thing!” said the Mother; “she does not -know. This will grieve our new sister, Marie Mercèdes; -but you must bring the stranger in, Michel. Charles -Langlade’s sister cannot remain in the streets.”</p> - -<p>“And the Indian and the dog?” said Michel.</p> - -<p>“Keep them at the lodge,” said the Reverend -Mother. The man went out. The Mother rang a -small bell beside her, which was answered by a serving -sister.</p> - -<p>“Go to Sister Marie Mercèdes’ cell, and tell her to -come here without delay,” she said. As the sister -went out, a tall figure wrapped in a thick cloak with a -hood drawn over her head entered, and with her a large -wolf-hound, which she held by its collar.</p> - -<p>“It was no use, Reverend Mother; he would have -torn me to pieces rather than leave her,” said -Michel.</p> - -<p>“He knows I have only him to protect me,” said -a gentle voice. “Indeed, he is quite harmless as long -as no one lays hands on me. Lie down, Bob,” and, -obedient to her word, the animal stretched himself at -her feet.</p> - -<p>“My child,” said the Reverend Mother, “you have -asked to see Mercèdes Montcalm. She bade adieu -to the world this morning; she is dead to all things -earthly.”</p> - -<p>“Dead,” repeated Loïs slowly; “it seems to me that -every one is dead.”</p> - -<p>“Dead to the world, I said,” continued the Superior. -“There is no Mercèdes Montcalm, only Sister Marie -Mercèdes. What do you want with her, my child? -You look very weary; sit down,” and she pointed to a -chair.</p> - -<p>“I have come many hundred miles,” said Loïs, -“in search of my brother and my brother’s child. He -sent me word that he had placed the boy here with -Mercèdes Montcalm.”</p> - -<p>“So he did,” answered the Reverend Mother.</p> - -<p>At that moment the door opened, and Loïs saw the -small, darkly-clad figure of a young nun enter. The -face was very pale; the eyes had a strained look in -them, and were bright as if with fever.</p> - -<p>“Come hither, my daughter,” said the Reverend -Mother. “I grieve to have disturbed you at your -devotions, but here is one who has come from afar to -fetch Charles Langlade’s little child. Will you tell -her what you know concerning it, so that she may be -satisfied?”</p> - -<p>“Are you Loïs Langlade?” said Sister Marie, in a -low voice.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said Loïs; “tell me, where is the child?”</p> - -<p>“Why have you come to me instead of going to -your brother? He would have told you, and spared me -the pain. Forgive me, Reverend Mother; it is still -pain,” said Sister Marie, bowing her head.</p> - -<p>“My brother!” said Loïs, rising quickly, and with -such a ring of joy in her voice,—“he is alive then, -and you have seen him. Oh, tell me where to find -him!” and taking the nun’s hand, she pressed it to -her lips.</p> - -<p>Sister Marie shivered slightly; she had not had -time yet to forget. The Reverend Mother answered -for her.</p> - -<p>“He is alive, my child; but where he lodges we do -not know, only there is one who does. We will enquire -to-morrow.”</p> - -<p>“To-morrow!” exclaimed Loïs. “Oh, Reverend -Mother, I have waited so many to-morrows! I am -not weary; let me go to him to-night. And the -child?”</p> - -<p>“Is at rest; him you cannot find,” said Sister Marie -Mercèdes. “But your brother is in Quebec,” she continued. -“Madame Péan, in the Rue St. Louis, will tell -you where to find him. You must go to her to-night; -to-morrow she leaves Quebec.”</p> - -<p>“Thank God I am in time,” said Loïs, and bending -her head in token of farewell, she went towards the -door. Bob rose and followed her. But suddenly her -strength seemed to fail her, and she staggered; Sister -Marie Mercèdes was beside her.</p> - -<p>“Lean on me,” she said gently, and placing her in -a chair, she held some water to her lips. Loïs drank -eagerly.</p> - -<p>“Are you in want of food?” asked the Reverend -Mother.</p> - -<p>“We have travelled all day,” said Loïs faintly; and -hardly knowing that she did so, she let her head rest -on Sister Marie’s bosom. Once more the Reverend -Mother rang her bell.</p> - -<p>“See if there be some hot soup in the kitchen, and -send Michel here,” she said to the serving sister. -Then, going up to Loïs, she added, “We will do what -we can for you, my child. What food we have you -are welcome to, and I will send Michel to find out -where your brother lodges. It is snowing fast; you -cannot wander to and fro in the streets of Quebec -to-night.”</p> - -<p>An hour later, warmed and comforted, Loïs rose to -depart. Michel was to conduct her to the address -which Madame Péan had given.</p> - -<p>“May I kiss you?” said Loïs, holding the young -nun’s hand in hers; and not doubting what the answer -would be, she kissed her in the old French-Canadian -fashion, on both cheeks. “Farewell, Madame,” she -said, turning towards the Reverend Mother.</p> - -<p>“God bless thee, my daughter. It grieves my heart -to send you forth on such a night; but you would not -rest even if I sought to detain you, therefore go in -peace. Michel will see you safely to your journey’s -end!”</p> - -<p>And so once more, with the snow whitening her -black cloak and the Indian lad’s bearskin, and followed -by Bob, Loïs went forth. Surely she was nearing the -end!</p> - -<hr class='tb' /> - -<p>“Roger, do you not hear some one knocking at the -outer door? I could almost think I heard old Bob -bark. There it is again.” And truly a dog’s sharp -imperative bark rose loud and clear on the still night -air.</p> - -<p>Without answering, Roger rose, left the room, and -opened the front door, which led out into the street. -He was almost thrown backwards by the sudden rush -of the big wolf-hound, which sprang upon him with -a bark of recognition, and then bounded past. He -was followed by two figures, and then the door was -quickly pushed back to keep out the snow which came -drifting in.</p> - -<p>“Roger!” and Loïs, throwing back her hood, stood -before him.</p> - -<p>“Oh, Loïs, my darling!”</p> - -<p>In the unexpected joy of that moment, the strong -man’s pride gave way; the love which had been so long -kept in check rose all powerful, and without uttering -a word more, he gathered her in his arms and held her -in a passionate embrace.</p> - -<p>“Who is it? What has happened?” said Charles, -coming out, the dog leaping round him.</p> - -<p>“Look!” said Roger proudly, his voice trembling -with emotion, as, still encircling Loïs with his arm, he -almost carried her into the sitting-room, and, placing -her in the armchair Charles had vacated, began loosening -her cloak.</p> - -<p>In that second of time the man’s face had utterly -changed. His youth seemed to have come back to -him; the smile on his lips, the light in his eye, shone -down upon Loïs until she could hardly bear it, and, -closing her eyes, the tears rolled down her face. It -was more than she had dared hope for. Together! -she had found them together, and it was as if all her -strength forsook her with the accomplished task. She -who had been so brave broke down now; she had no -longer any need for strength. The touch of his hand, -the few caressing words which escaped him, told her -that from henceforth the burden of life was lifted -from her shoulders, that the great harmony of -perfect love for which she had so patiently waited was -hers at last.</p> - -<p>“Oh, Roger!” she repeated, and her arms were -round his neck, her head upon his shoulder, and, as -if the floodgates of her soul had opened, her sobs filled -the room. Truly the clouds had broken at last, and even -as she wept she saw the rift and the blue sky shining -forth, and she knew that the light of a new day was -dawning for her and for Roger.</p> - -<p>“Well, Loïs, have you no word for me?” said Charles -reproachfully.</p> - -<p>She sprang up, exclaiming,—</p> - -<p>“My dear brother, forgive me. I came to find you -and take you home.”</p> - -<p>“And instead of one you have found two,” said -Charles, kissing her. “My brave sister, you deserve -to be rewarded after such a quest. We will all go -home together. Surely if you came through the snow -alone with Jim, we can return the same way. What do -you say, Roger?”</p> - -<p>“As soon as your strength permits it we will go,” -answered Roger. “I saw that Madame who came here -yesterday again this morning, and she promised to -send me the passes necessary for us to get through -that part of the country still held by the French; once -we receive them we can start—at least, as soon as you -feel strong enough.”</p> - -<p>“Then we shall not be here much longer,” said -Charles. “The sight of Loïs seems to have given me -back my strength. We must be home for Christmas. -Jim, good Jim,” he said, patting the Indian boy’s head, -as he crouched before the fire.</p> - -<p>“I called him Jim when he was quite a little chap,” -said Charles. “He has run my commissions ever since -he was able to run at all. You’ll stay with us always -now, Jim? After this last exploit of bringing Loïs up -to Quebec we can’t part with you.”</p> - -<p>“Jim never leave you, Nosa,”<sup>[8]</sup> answered the lad, -raising his eyes, full of a dog-like devotion, to Charles’ -face.</p> - -<p class='fn'>[Footnote 8: Father—Master.]</p> - -<p>“That is well. We will all go home together.”</p> - -<p>For the first time in her life Loïs knew what it was -to be made much of, to be cared for and thought for; -she who had always cared for others. They remained -a week in Quebec, during which time Charles regained -his strength with marvellous rapidity. It seemed -almost as if Loïs had brought the breath of life with -her from the old home. During that week Loïs visited -the battle-field on the Plains of Abraham, and all the -spots which from henceforth would be landmarks in -the history of Quebec. Roger was, moreover, busy -making preparations for the homeward journey; sleighs -were bought, strong horses to draw them, furs to wrap -themselves in, and a goodly store of provisions for the -journey. They were not going alone; besides his two -faithful servants, a company of Roger’s Rangers volunteered -to accompany them; so that when they started -from Quebec they mustered about a score of souls. -Loïs was like a queen amongst them. General Levis -had sent them free passes through the French lines, -so that no difficulties arose to impede their rapid -progress.</p> - -<p>The land was icebound, the cold intense, but the -weather brilliant. Down the great St. Lawrence they -went; across country, as only men born in the land -and knowing every inch of the ground they traversed -could have done. Home, home, was the watchword, -before which every hardship seemed of no account.</p> - -<hr class='tb' /> - -<p>“Father Nat! mother! here they are coming up the -hill!” and Susie dashed into the kitchen.</p> - -<p>No need to say who were coming.</p> - -<p>“Oh, my lads, my lads!” cried Father Nat, and bareheaded -as he was, he strode out through the garden -into the high road, and stood with his arms stretched -out to welcome the children home.</p> - -<hr class='tb' /> - -<p>From far and near, from villages and lonely farmhouses, -in sleighs, on foot, by land in the most -primitive conveyances, skating along the icebound -lakes and rivers, the people came flocking to Marshwood -to celebrate Roger the Ranger’s and Loïs Langlade’s -wedding-day.</p> - -<p>Never in the memory of man had such a Christmas -Eve been witnessed. Brightly the sun shone on the -glistening snow, as the bride in her sleigh, decorated -with holly and evergreens, with white bearskins -wrapping her round, was driven by Father Nat himself -down to the village church, amid the shouts and joy-wishes -of the crowd lining the hill-side and the long -village street. Roger’s Rangers had mustered in full -force to do their Captain honour, and very gay they -looked in their red shirts and tan gaiters as they filed -into the church after the bridal party.</p> - -<p>There were few dry eyes in that assembly as the old -minister rose to address them, and in simple, strong -words reminded them of the dark days and the sorrows -through which they had all passed. He spoke of the -noble examples which had been set to them by men -such as Wolfe and Howe, and others whose nameless -graves were not without due honour. “And surely,” -he added in conclusion, “we New Englanders are more -than ever bound to bring up our children in the true -faith, free men, lovers of that liberty for which so -many have bled, remembering always that the lives of -great men are landmarks, pointing those that come -after to like deeds of high honour, not of idle acquiescence -in the past, but to be up and doing, regenerating -the earth by love, peace, and goodwill, even as the -Christ, whose birthday we shall celebrate to-morrow, -brought peace and goodwill to man.”</p> - -<p>The merry-making lasted a whole week, and many -of those who had come from afar lingered still longer. -Amongst the number were William Parkmann and his -young wife, and with them they had brought a sister -of the former, Elizabeth Parkmann, who took so kindly -to the homely life of the Marshes, and more especially -to the master of Alpha Marsh, that Father Nat, radiant -with joy, said to John Cleveland, as they sat together -in the chimney corner, “We shall see Marcus in the -pulpit yet, and Charles and Roger reigning in my -stead.”</p> - -<p>“Amen, so be it!” answered the minister.</p> - -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - -<h2 id='chXXXIV' title='XXXIV—CONCLUSION'> - <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER XXXIV</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.1em'>CONCLUSION</span> -</h2> - - -<p>Six days after the battle on the Plains of Abraham, -General Levis appeared before Quebec, to find that -the fortress had capitulated. His indignation knew no -bounds. He had been educated in General Montcalm’s -school, and would not recognise that France was -defeated. With a handful of about three thousand -men, the remnant of the French army, he retired at -first to Jacques Cartier, and afterwards to Montreal, -and coolly decided that he would continue the war -and re-conquer Quebec. Of such stuff heroes are -made. They do not know when they are vanquished!</p> - -<p>In the month of April 1760, two French ships, the -<i>Atalanta</i> and <i>Pomona</i>, having on board ammunition -and the necessary siege materials, slowly descended -the St. Lawrence, profiting by a narrow channel which -a sudden thaw had opened out right through the -middle of the river. The troops, consisting of three -thousand regulars and two thousand Canadians and -savages, marched with great difficulty through the -half-melted snow, until one morning they reached that -very Plain of Abraham where Wolfe and Montcalm had -fought their mortal duel.</p> - -<p>General Murray, Governor of Quebec, immediately -ordered a sortie, and offered battle to the little French -army. He had at his command four or five thousand -men and twenty-two pieces of artillery.</p> - -<p>It was the 28th of April, 1760.</p> - -<p>The assault of the French was terrific, the very -impetus of despair. The Canadians charged, having -fastened knives into the ends of their guns to supply -the want of bayonets. The English artillery mowed -down their ranks, but still they advanced with drums -beating furiously to the charge. To repair their defeat, -to die or to conquer, that was their sole object, and, -thus animated, they threw themselves on the English -with such fury that they forced them to retreat, and -take refuge in Quebec; but not before they had left -twelve hundred dead upon that fatal field. The French -themselves had their brave general, Bourlamaque, -severely wounded, and lost eight hundred men, the -whole corps of Grenadiers!</p> - -<p>Nothing daunted, General Levis laid siege to Quebec. -The cannon which had been taken from the English -served him well, but he lacked ammunition.</p> - -<p>“If only one ship would come from France to our -assistance before the English fleet arrives, Quebec would -once more be ours, and the white lilies of France would -float from her ramparts,” exclaimed General Levis, -gazing out to sea, watching with the yearning of his -heroic heart for the succour which would restore his -lost prestige.</p> - -<p>It was on the evening of the 15th of May when in -the distant horizon sails were visible. Besieged and -besiegers alike strained their eyes to recognise from -whence they came. Were they English or French -ships? It is easy to conceive the agonising suspense -which filled every heart. The English historian and -eye-witness, Knox, has graphically described it as -follows:—</p> - -<p>“We stood gazing for some time up the river in an -inexpressible state of anxiety, until the sails became -clearly visible, and we knew they were the advance -ships of the English fleet! It is impossible to describe -the scene which followed. Men and officers leapt on to -the ramparts facing the French army, and, waving -their hats, gave vent for upwards of an hour to -hurrahs and shouts of delight. We had suffered -much during the siege, and our deliverance was therefore -doubly welcome.”</p> - -<p>The news was greeted in England with almost equal -enthusiasm.</p> - -<p>“Happy, happy day!” wrote Pitt. “My joy and -satisfaction are beyond all expression.”</p> - -<p>But still, though forced to raise the siege, having -lost their two solitary ships, and obliged to retire once -more to Montreal, the remaining handful of French -soldiers and Canadians would not yield. Under the -influence of a fixed idea these last defenders of Canada -seemed literally to have gone mad. Three English -armies of forty thousand men surrounded General -Levis and his three thousand six hundred soldiers who -had taken refuge in Montreal. Montreal was an open -town, having round it only a low wall, originally -intended to defend it from the attacks of the savages. -Of course all idea of defence was impossible. Vaudreuil -consented therefore to capitulate.</p> - -<p>But Levis, indignant at a clause in the capitulation -in which General Amherst refused the honours of war -to his heroic troops, would not lay down his sword, -and retired with two thousand men to the Island of -St. Helen; and only upon the Governor Vaudreuil’s -formal command did he at last yield, and laid down -his arms on September 8th, 1760, protesting to the -last against the treatment of the French troops, who, -he declared, “merited more attention from Monsieur -de Vaudreuil, and more esteem from General Amherst.”</p> - -<p>Thus this terrible war, which had caused such a -fearful sacrifice of human life, and such great suffering, -was over. The unhappy French soldiers were sent on -board English ships, and, in the midst of one of the -most terrific storms on record, bade adieu to the land -they had fought so bravely to retain for their own. -But they left behind them a reputation which, as time -goes on, and events are seen through the halo of the -past, grows in magnitude. England herself glories in -having vanquished such almost unconquerable defenders -of the soil; and their beloved General Montcalm lies -in no unhonoured grave. In raising a monument to -their own victorious Hero, the conquerors did not forget -the great <i>vanquished Hero</i>. Side by side they stand -in the fair city of Quebec, telling of noble deeds and -spotless fame—“Wolfe and Montcalm. With courage -they faced death. History has united them in glory, -and Posterity has erected this monument to their -memory.” A noble epitaph, for noble men!</p> - -<div style='text-align:center; margin-top:1.2em; font-size:smaller'> -ROBERTS & JACKSON, PRINTERS, GRIMSBY. -</div> - -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROGER THE RANGER ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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