ch anxiety at
headquarters. The grand schemes of the French for acquiring a whole
vast continent were fast dwindling down to the anxious hope of
being able to keep what they already possessed.

The girl gazing forth from the narrow window was turning over in
her mind the things that she had heard. Her fair face was grave,
yet it was bright, too, and as she threw out her hand towards the
vista of the great river rolling its mighty volume of water towards
the sea, she suddenly exclaimed:

"And what if they do come? what if they do conquer? Have we not
deserved it? have we not brought ruin upon our own heads by the
wickedness and cruelty we have made our allies? And if England's
flag should one day wave over the fortress of Quebec, as it now
does over that of Louisbourg, what is that to me? Have I not
English--or Scotch--blood in my veins? Am I not as much English as
French? I sometimes think that, had I my choice, England would be
the country where I should best love to dwell. It is the land of
freedom--all say that, even my good uncle, who knows so well. I
love freedom; I love what is noble and great. Sometimes I feel in
my heart that England will be the greatest country of the world."

Her eyes glowed; she stretched forth her hands in a speaking
gesture. The waters of the great river seemed to flash back an
answer. Cooped up within frowning walls, amid the buildings of the
fortress and upper town, Corinne felt sometimes like a bird in a
prison cage; and yet the life fascinated her, with its constant
excitements, its military environment, its atmosphere of coming
danger. She did not want to leave Quebec till the struggle between
the nations had been fought out. And yet she scarcely knew which
side she wished to see win. French though her training had been of
late years, yet her childhood had been spent in the stormy north,
amid an English-speaking people. She had seen much that disgusted
and saddened her here amongst the French of Canada. She despised
the aged libertine who still sat upon the French throne with all
the scorn and disgust of an ardent nature full of noble impulses.

"I hate to call myself his subject!" she had been known to say. "I
will be free to choose to which nation I will belong. I have the
right to call myself English if I choose."

Not that Corinne very often gave way to such open demonstrations of
her national independence, It was to her aunt, Madame Drucour, with
whom she was now making a h