, folding his arms,
and glancing round with a disdainful smile without speaking a word. He
carried a paper in one hand.

Here were at least two thousand armed and unarmed peasants, sick with
misery and oppression, in the presence of their undefended tyrant.
One shot, one blow of a stone, one stroke of a knife--to the end of a
shameless pillage. But no hand was raised to do the deed. The roar of
voices subsided--he waited for it--and silence was broken only by the
crackle of the burning building, the tramp of Montcalm's soldiers in
Mountain Street, and the tolling of the cathedral bell. I thought it
strange that almost as Bigot came out the wild clanging gave place to a
cheerful peal.

After standing for a moment, looking round him, his eye resting on
Doltaire and myself (we were but a little distance from him), Bigot said
in a loud voice: "What do you want with me? Do you think I may be moved
by threats? Do you punish me by burning your own food, which, when the
English are at our doors, is your only hope? Fools! How easily could I
turn my cannon and my men upon you! You think to frighten me. Who do you
think I am?--a Bostonnais or an Englishman? You--revolutionists! T'sh!
You are wild dogs without a leader. You want one that you can trust; you
want no coward, but one who fears you not at your wildest. Well, I will
be your leader. I do not fear you, and I do not love you, for how have
you deserved my love? By ingratitude and aspersion? Who has the King's
favour? Francois Bigot. Who has the ear of the Grande Marquise? Francois
Bigot. Who stands firm while others tremble lest their power pass
to-morrow? Francois Bigot. Who else dare invite revolution, this
danger"--his hand sweeping to the flames--"who but Francois Bigot?" He
paused for a moment, and looking up to the leader of Montcalm's soldiers
on the Heights, waved him back; then he continued:

"And to-day, when I am ready to give you great news, you play the mad
dog's game; you destroy what I had meant to give you in our hour of
danger, when those English came. I made you suffer a little, that
you might live then. Only to-day, because of our great and glorious
victory--"

He paused again. The peal of bells became louder. Far up on the Heights
we heard the calling of bugles and the beating of drums; and now I saw
the whole large plan, the deep dramatic scheme. He had withheld the news
of the victory that he might announce it when it would most turn to his
own glo