sight of Pauline and Zulma. He gave them both a
smiling look of recognition. Pauline returned it with ardent eye and an
animated face that betokened the joy and pride she felt in the service
which her friend was called upon to perform. Zulma affected not to see
Hardinge and looked away over to the American side with an ostentatious
air of offence.

Presently there was the report of a fire-arm, and a puff of pale blue
smoke floated over the edge of the wall. If there was excitement before,
there was uproar and consternation now. An outrage had been committed.
Some one in Quebec had fired on the flag of truce. Pauline uttered a
shrill cry and hid her face in her hands.

"What has happened?" she asked. "Is the battle going to begin? Let us
hasten away. And Roderick--where is he?"

"Safe within the gate," exclaimed Zulma, bending forward, with a keen
nervous movement, and pointing in front of her. "But the American is not
so safe. He has been fired at. The laws of war have been violated. See,
he is the only one who is calm. He walks proudly along, without even
turning his head. There is the hero. He is shot at as if he were a dog,
in violation of all civilized usages. Yet he is nobler than any of those
who pretend to regard the Americans as unworthy of human treatment."

The Americans could hardly maintain their discipline. If the troops had
been allowed their way, they would have rushed headlong against the
walls to avenge the insult. But fortunately the officers succeeded in
calming them. The shot had not been repeated. It was perhaps an
accident, or it had been fired by some militiamen without orders. The
flag-bearer was not injured, neither was the trumpeter.

The army contented itself with a last yell of defiance, and fell back,
partially deploying to the left so as to occupy the main road leading
from the country to the city. Arnold was bitterly disappointed. His
summons for surrender was a characteristic bit of impudence, as we have
seen, not so much on account of the summons itself, as of the threats
and other terms of rhodomontade in which it was couched. Still it might
have succeeded as a mere ruse of war. That it did not succeed was matter
for profound chagrin, and the circumstances of insult and humiliation by
which the refusal was accompanied added poignancy to the pain.

On the other hand, the citizens of Quebec were jubilant. It was a first
trial of strength and the garrison had not failed. It was the f