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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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