for the arms of France. There seems no reason
why we should lack power to drive back the English to their ships;
yet I have that within me which speaks of calamity and disaster.
Canada has become helpless and corrupt. When that has befallen a
country or a community, it has always fallen. I fear me that the
days of French rule are numbered. I only pray that if the English
reign here in our stead, they may prove themselves merciful
masters, and keep their promise not to interfere with the exercise
of the true faith in which the people have been brought up."

"If the English have pledged their word to that, they will keep
it," answered Madame Drucour; "and if Canada must fall, we may
rejoice that it should fall into hands as merciful as those of our
English rivals."

"That is true," said her brother: "they have set us many a noble
example of clemency and honour. Yet their hands are not altogether
free from blood guiltiness. There have been acts of violence and
cruelty committed even during these past weeks along the shores of
the river."

"Yes," answered Madame Drucour: "houses have been burned and
families turned adrift, and much suffering has resulted therefrom.
War is ever cruel, and the track of it is marked with fire and
blood. Yet we must remember that the persons thus molested had fair
warning given them. They might have remained in safety had they
submitted to the conditions imposed by General Wolfe. Perhaps they
showed more spirit by resistance; but they drew down their fate
upon themselves. And no woman or child has been hurt; no cruelties
have been inflicted upon prisoners. No Indians have been suffered
to molest them. Would we have been as forbearing--as stern in the
maintenance of order and discipline? The only acts of cruelty
committed on the English side have been by Rangers not belonging to
the regular army, and those only upon Indians or those degraded
Canadians who go about with them, painted and disguised to resemble
their dusky allies. For my part, I think that men who thus degrade
themselves deserve all that they get."

"It is well to seek to find consolation in time of extremity," said
the Abbe, "and I do rejoice very heartily in the knowledge that we
have a merciful foe to deal with. If this city is forced to open
her gates to the English, I verily believe that no scenes of
outrage will disgrace the page of history upon which this day's
doings shall be recorded. There is help in that thought at