friends
or the persecution of enemies, or disgusted with the cold indifference
of the Court to his statesmanlike plans for the colonization of New
France.

A short distance from the Chateau rose a tower of rough
masonry--crenellated on top, and loopholed on the sides--which had been
built as a place of defence and refuge during the Indian wars of the
preceding century. Often had the prowling bands of Iroquois turned away
baffled and dismayed at the sight of the little fortalice surmounted
by a culverin or two, which used to give the alarm of invasion to the
colonists on the slopes of Bourg Royal, and to the dwellers along the
wild banks of the Montmorency.

The tower was now disused and partly dilapidated, but many wonderful
tales existed among the neighboring habitans of a secret passage that
communicated with the vaults of the Chateau; but no one had ever seen
the passage--still less been bold enough to explore it had they found
it, for it was guarded by a loup-garou that was the terror of children,
old and young, as they crowded close together round the blazing fire
on winter nights, and repeated old legends of Brittany and Normandy,
altered to fit the wild scenes of the New World.

Colonel Philibert and Master Pothier rode up the broad avenue that led
to the Chateau, and halted at the main gate--set in a lofty hedge
of evergreens cut into fantastic shapes, after the fashion of the
Luxembourg. Within the gate a vast and glowing garden was seen--all
squares, circles, and polygons. The beds were laden with flowers
shedding delicious odors on the morning air as it floated by, while the
ear was soothed by the hum of bees and the songs of birds revelling in
the bright sunshine.

Above the hedge appeared the tops of heavily-laden fruit-trees brought
from France and planted by Talon--cherries red as the lips of Breton
maidens, plums of Gascony, Norman apples, with pears from the glorious
valleys of the Rhone. The bending branches were just transmuting their
green unripeness into scarlet, gold, and purple--the imperial colors of
Nature when crowned for the festival of autumn.

A lofty dove-cote, surmounted by a glittering vane, turning and flashing
with every shift of the wind, stood near the Chateau. It was the home of
a whole colony of snow-white pigeons, which fluttered in and out of it,
wheeled in circles round the tall chimney-stacks, or strutted, cooing
and bowing together, on the high roof of the Chateau, a pict