the
effect of command. Under this influence he had prepared the words which
he was to deliver at the Fete. They were full of veneration for past
traditions, but were not at variance with a proper loyalty to the flag
under which they lived, and if the English soldiery met the speech
with genial appreciation the day might end in a blessing--and surely
blessings were overdue in Madelinette's life in Pontiac.

It had been as she worked for and desired, thanks to herself and the
English General's sympathetic help. Perhaps his love of music made
him better understand what she wanted, made him even forgiving of the
Seigneur's strained manner; but certain it is that the day, begun with
uneasiness on the part of the people of Pontiac, who felt themselves
under surveillance, ended in great good-feeling and harmless revelry;
and it was also certain that the Seigneur's speech gained him an
applause that surprised him and momentarily appeased his vanity. The
General gave him a guard of honour of the French Militia in keeping with
his position as Seigneur; and this, with Madelinette's presence at his
elbow, restrained him in his speech when he would have broken from the
limits of propriety in the intoxication of his eager eloquence. But he
spoke with moderation, standing under the British Flag on the platform,
and at the last he said:

"A flag not our own floats over us now; guarantees us against the malice
of the world and assures us in our laws and religion; but there is
another flag which in our tearful memories is as dear to us now as it
was at Carillon and Levis. It is the flag of memory--of language and
of race, the emblem of our past upon our hearthstones; and the great
country that rules us does not deny us reverence to it. Seeing it, we
see the history of our race from Charlemagne to this day, and we have
a pride in that history which England does not rebuke, a pride which
is just and right. It is fitting that we should have a day of
commemoration. Far off in France burns the light our fathers saw and
were glad. And we in Pontiac have a link that binds us to the old home.
We have ever given her proud remembrance--we now give her art and song."

With these words, and turning to his wife, he ended, and cries of
"Madame Madelinette! Madame Madelinette!" were heard everywhere. Even
the English soldiers cheered, and Madelinette sang a la Claire Fontaine,
three verses in French and one in English, and the whole valley rang
wit