Robert, the heart
of thy

ALIXE.

An hour after getting this good letter Gabord came again, and with him
breakfast--a word which I had almost dropped from my language. True, it
was only in a dungeon, on a pair of stools, by the light of a torch, but
how I relished it!--a bottle of good wine, a piece of broiled fish, the
half of a fowl, and some tender vegetables.

When Gabord came for me with two soldiers, an hour later--I say an hour,
but I only guess so, for I had no way of noting time--I was ready for
new cares, and to see the world again. Before the others Gabord was the
rough, almost brutal soldier, and soon I knew that I was to be driven
out upon the St. Foye Road and on into the town. My arms were well
fastened down, and I was tied about till I must have looked like a bale
of living goods of no great value. Indeed, my clothes were by no means
handsome, and save for my well-shaven face and clean handkerchief I was
an ill-favoured spectacle; but I tried to bear my shoulders up as we
marched through dark reeking corridors, and presently came suddenly into
well-lighted passages.

I had to pause, for the light blinded my eyes, and they hurt me
horribly, so delicate were the nerves. For some minutes I stood there,
my guards stolidly waiting, Gabord muttering a little and stamping upon
the floor as if in anger, though I knew he was merely playing a small
part to deceive his comrades. The pain in my eyes grew less, and, though
they kept filling with moisture from the violence of the light, I soon
could see without distress.

I was led into the yard of the citadel, where was drawn up a company of
soldiers. Gabord bade me stand still, and advanced towards the officers'
quarters. I asked him if I might not walk to the ramparts and view the
scene. He gruffly assented, bidding the men watch me closely, and I
walked over to a point where, standing three hundred feet above the
noble river, I could look out upon its sweet expanse, across to the
Levis shore, with its serried legions of trees behind, and its
bold settlement in front upon the Heights. There, eastward lay the
well-wooded Island of Orleans, and over all the clear sun and sky,
enlivened by a crisp and cheering air. Snow had fallen, but none now lay
upon the ground, and I saw a rare and winning earth. I stood absorbed. I
was recalling that first day that I remember in my life, when at Balmore
my grandfather made prophecies upon me, and for the first time I was