The Bastonnais. John Lespérance
surely."
"Yes, sir, by our own people."
"Impossible. Our poor farmers have been robbed and plundered by these rascals."
"Excuse me, Your Excellency, but these rascals pay and pay largely for whatever they require."
"In coin?"
"No, sir, in paper."
"Their Continental paper?"
"The same."
"Rags, vile rags."
"That may be. But our farmers accept them all the same and freely."
Roderick here produced the small parcel which he had deposited in his breast pocket, and having unfolded it, drew forth several slips which he handed to His Excellency. They were specimens of American currency, and receipts signed by Arnold and others of his officers for cattle and provisions obtained from Canadian farmers.
"Indeed," continued the young officer, "Your Excellency will excuse me for saying that, from all the information in my possession—information upon which I insist that you can implicitly rely—it is beyond question that the population, through which the invading column has passed and is passing, is favourable to their cause. A trumpery proclamation written by General Washington himself, and translated into French, has been distributed among them, and they have been carried away by its fine sentences about liberty and independence. These facts account for all the misleading and false reports which we have hitherto received concerning the expedition. We have been purposely and systematically kept in the dark in regard to it. Left to itself, Arnold's army would have disbanded through insubordination, or perished of starvation and hardship in the wilderness. Comforted and replenished by His Majesty's own subjects, it is now marching with threatening front toward Quebec."
"Traitors to the King in the outlying districts cannot unfortunately be so easily reached as those who lie more immediately under our eyes. But their time will come yet. Meanwhile, we have to keep a sharp watch over disaffection and treason within the walls of this very city," said the Lieutenant-Governor with great earnestness and very perceptible warmth.
"This parcel may probably assist Your Excellency in doing so," replied Hardinge, at the same time delivering the remainder of the package which he had received from Donald.
"What have we here?" questioned the Governor, while unfastening the strings which bound the parcel.
"Letters from Colonel Arnold to General Schuyler, the original commander of the army of invasion. Arnold will be surprised, if not chagrined, to learn that Schuyler has been succeeded by Montgomery."
"Ah! I see. Well, as these letters are not addressed to General Montgomery, and as Gen. Schuyler has left the country, it will be no breach of etiquette on our part if we open them. No doubt they will furnish very interesting reading. And these?"
"They are letters from Arnold to several prominent citizens of Quebec."
"Impossible."
"Your Excellency will please read the addresses."
The Governor examined the superscriptions one by one, and in silence, while he made his comments in an undertone.
"Mr. L.—It does not surprise me."
"Mr. F.—I shall inquire into it."
"Mr. O.—As likely as not."
"Mr. R.—Must be some mistake. He is too big a fool to take sides one way or the other."
"Mr. G.—His wife will have to decide that matter for him."
"Mr. X.—I'll give him a commission, and he'll be all right."
"Mr. N.—I don't believe a word of it."
"Mr. H.—Loose fish. He was false to France under Montcalm. He may be false to England under Carleton."
And so on through a dozen more. At length he came upon the twentieth address, when he exclaimed:
"Mr. B.—Impossible! My best friend! But what if it were true? Who knows what these dark days may bring about? B—! B—! I will see to it at once."
Saying which, he flung all the letters on the table, and striving to master his excitement, turned towards Roderick Hardinge, and asked:
"Have you anything else to say to me, my young friend?"
"Nothing more, sir, unless it be to apologize for having occupied so much of your time, and especially at this hour."
"Never mind that. If what you have told me is all true, the information is incalculable in importance. I shall lose no time in acting, and shall not forget you, nor your old servant. I will send out scouts at once, and proceed myself to the examination of these letters which you have placed in my hands. The situation is grave, young man. You have done well, and to show you how much I appreciate your conduct, I intend employing you on a further mission. You have not slept this night?"
"No, Your Excellency."
"It is now half-past five. Go and rest till noon. At that hour come to me with the best saddle horse in your regiment. I will give you your instructions then."
Roderick Hardinge gave the salute and took his departure just as the first streaks of dawn lighted the sky.
No one accosted him in the vestibule. The sentinel at the entrance did not even notice him. He walked straight to the barracks. As he crossed the Cathedral-square, a graceful hooded figure glided past him and entered into the old church. It was pretty Pauline Belmont. Roderick recognized her, and turned to speak to her, but she had disappeared under the arcade. Alas! if either of them had known.
IV.
IN CATHEDRAL SQUARE.
There was a notable stir in Quebec on the morning of the 7th November, 1775. The inhabitants who had retired to their houses, the evening before, in the security of ignorance, rose the next day with the vague certainty of an impending portent. There was electricity in the air. The atmosphere was charged with moral as well as material clouds. People opened their windows and looked out anxiously. They stood on their doorsteps as if timorous to go forward. They gathered in knots on the street corners and conferred in low tones. There was nothing definite known. Nobody had seen anything. Nobody had heard anything. Yet all manner of wild stories circulated through the crowds. Strange fires were said to have burned in the sky during the night. A phantom sentinel had kept watch on the citadel, a spectral waterman had crossed the river with muffled oars, a shadowy horseman from the forest had dashed through Levis, and his foaming steed had fallen dead on the water's edge. Those who disbelieved might see the corse of the animal in a sand-quarry not a hundred yards from where he fell. And there was more. A mysterious visitor had called upon the Governor in the small hours. A long conference had taken place between them. The Governor was in a towering rage, and the stranger had departed upon another errand as singular as that which had brought him to the Chateau. These and other more fantastic rumors flew from mouth to mouth and from one end of the city to the other. It is wonderful how near the truth of things above them the ignorant crowd can come, and how powerful is the instinct of great events in vulgar minds. By ten o'clock Quebec was in an uproar, and Cathedral-square was full of people.
Facing the Square from the east was the barracks. But no signs of commotion were visible there. Two sentries walked up and down their long beats as quietly as if on parade. Privates who were off duty stood leaning against the wall or the door-frames of the building, with their hands in their pockets and one leg resting over the other. Some even smoked their pipes with that half-blank, half-truculent expression which people find so