them; but hang me if I don't show you all
that an Englishman shall go at ease where a Frenchman daren't show
his nose! Come along with me, my dear, and I'll show you this
dangerous passage.'

"And he led him forward to the best place, giving his orders as
cool and unconcerned as though he had been in the Thames itself.
The vessel that followed, hearing what was going on, and being
afraid of falling into some peril herself, called out to know who
the rash sailing master was. 'I am old Killick!" roared back the
bold old fellow himself, hearing the question, 'and that should be
enough for you!'

"And he turned his back, and went on laughing and joking with the
officer, and bawling out his orders with all the confidence of an
experienced pilot."

"O Colin! And did he make no mistake? And what did the pilot say?"

"Oh, he rolled up his eyes, and kept asking if they were sure the
old fellow had never been there before; and when we had got through
the great zigzag with never so much as the ghost of a misadventure,
and the signalling boats pointed to the deeper water beyond, the
old fellow only laughed, and said, 'Ay, ay, my dear, a terrible
dangerous navigation! Chalk it down, a terrible dangerous
navigation! If you don't make a sputter about it, you'll get no
credit in England!'

"Then lounging away to his mate at the helm, he bid him give it to
somebody else; and walking off with him, he said, 'Hang me if there
are not a thousand places in the Thames fifty times worse than
that. I'm ashamed that Englishmen should make such a rout about
it!' And when his words were translated to the pilot, he raised his
hands to heaven in mute protest, and evidently regarded old Killick
as something not quite human."

"Hurrah for the old sea dog! That's the kind of mariner we have,
Mademoiselle Corinne; that's the way we rule the waves! Hurrah for
brave old Killick! We'll make as little of getting into Quebec as
he did of navigating the Traverse!"

The story of the old captain's prowess ran through Quebec like
lightning, and produced there a sensation of wonder not unmixed
with awe. If this was the spirit which animated the English fleet,
what might not be the next move?

It was quickly known that the redoubtable Wolfe had landed upon the
Isle of Orleans, and was marching in a westerly direction towards
the point three or four miles distant from the city where he would
be able to obtain a better view than heretofore of the nature