his nation, which, but for the magnanimity of the
noble Canadian, might have never struggled into independence.

There stood also the Sieur de Lery, the King's engineer, charged with
the fortification of the Colony, a man of Vauban's genius in the art of
defence. Had the schemes which he projected, and vainly urged upon the
heedless Court of Versailles, been carried into effect, the conquest of
New France would have been an impossibility.

Arm in arm with De Lery, in earnest conversation, walked the handsome
Claude de Beauharnais,--brother of a former Governor of the Colony,--a
graceful, gallant-looking soldier. De Beauharnais was the ancestor of a
vigorous and beautiful race, among whose posterity was the fair Hortense
de Beauharnais, who in her son, Napoleon III., seated an offshoot of
Canada upon the imperial throne of France long after the abandonment of
their ancient colony by the corrupt House of Bourbon.

Conspicuous among the distinguished officers by his tall, straight
figure and quick movements, was the Chevalier La Corne St. Luc, supple
as an Indian, and almost as dark, from exposure to the weather and
incessant campaigning. He was fresh from the blood and desolation of
Acadia, where France, indeed, lost her ancient colony, but St. Luc
reaped a full sheaf of glory at Grand Pre, in the Bay of Minas, by the
capture of an army of New Englanders. The rough old soldier was just now
all smiles and gaiety, as he conversed with Monseigneur de Pontbriant,
the venerable Bishop of Quebec, and Father de Berey, the Superior of the
Recollets.

The Bishop, a wise ruler of his Church, was also a passionate lover of
his country: the surrender of Quebec to the English broke his heart, and
he died a few months after the announcement of the final cession of the
Colony.

Father de Berey, a jovial monk, wearing the gray gown and sandals of the
Recollets, was renowned throughout New France for his wit more than for
his piety. He had once been a soldier, and he wore his gown, as he had
worn his uniform, with the gallant bearing of a King's Guardsman. But
the people loved him all the more for his jests, which never lacked the
accompaniment of genuine charity. His sayings furnished all New France
with daily food for mirth and laughter, without detracting an iota of
the respect in which the Recollets were held throughout the colony.

Father Glapion, the Superior of the Jesuits, also accompanied the
Bishop. His close, black souta