cern. Presently some one rushed up the
stair and precipitated himself into the apartment, without so much as
rapping at the door. It was her brother, a youth of about her age, who
was at school at the Seminary of Quebec. He evidently had just arrived,
being still wrapped up in a blue flannel coat, trimmed with red cloth,
hood of the same material, buckskin leggings and rough hide boots. He
gave himself a vigorous shake, like a Newfoundland just emerged from the
water, and stamped upon the floor to throw off the particles of snow
adhering to his feet.

"What means all this disturbance, Eugene?" asked Zulma, holding out one
hand, and turning her head over the side of the chair, till her face
looked up to the ceiling.

"Oh, nothing, except that the rebels have come!" was the rejoinder, as
the youth walked up to his sister, and dropped globules of snow from his
gloves into her eyes.

"The what have come?"

"Why, the rebels."

"You mean the Americans."

"Americans or rebels,--what is the difference?"

"A world of difference. The Americans are not rebels. They are freemen,
battling for their rights."

"We have been taught at the Seminary to call them rebels."

"Then you have been taught wrong."

Zulma had risen out of her chair, and stood up in front of the fire,
with a glow of enthusiasm on her cheek. She would doubtless have
continued to deliver her ideas on the subject, but her young brother
evidently took no particular interest in it, and this circumstance,
which did not escape her quick eye, suddenly brought her back to more
practical questions.

"Where have the Americans arrived?"

"At Point Levis."

"When did they arrive?"

"This morning, early."

"Have you seen them?"

"They are quite visible on the heights, moving to and fro, and making
all kinds of signs toward the city. The whole of Quebec turned out to
look at them, the scholars of the Seminary along with the rest. After I
had seen the fellows, the Superior of the Seminary called me aside, and
directed me to take a sleigh, and come at once to notify you."

"Notify me?" said Zulma, arching her brows. "M. Le Superieur is very
amiable."

"Well, not you exactly," said Eugene, laughing, "but the family."

"Oh!" exclaimed she. "That is different. I never saw your Superior in my
life, and I do not know that he is aware of my humble existence."

"There you are mistaken. Our Superior knows all about you, your tricks,
your oddities, your French n