ented himself at her door last night. Sieur Sarpy
exchanged only a few words with him, and certainly did not treat him as
a familiar. And who was this Batoche? Was he a friend or an enemy of the
cause of liberty? Perhaps he was a spy?

During the interval Batoche stood immovable, while the snow piled in
inches on his round shoulders, but at length, divining the thoughts of
Cary, he said in a low voice:

"You are returning to Sieur Sarpy's, did you say?"

"At once."

"But the roads will be all blockaded."

"I know all the by-paths."

"Our troops are advancing and might arrest you."

The old man only smiled.

"I will give you a pass."

Batoche took off his glove and produced from his pocket a folded paper.

Cary opened it, and recognizing the signature of Colonel Meigs, returned
it with a smile.

"I thankfully accept your offer," said he. "Here is a little message
which you will deliver to Mademoiselle Zulma."

Saying which, he wrote a few lines in pencil on a leaf of his pocket
book.

"She will receive it at noon," said Batoche, taking the missive, and
without the addition of another word, he stalked away on his snow-shoes.

Cary returned to camp just in time to take part in the forward movement
of his corps. The main body did not break up its quarters till five days
later, but on the 29th November, the day on which the event just
narrated took place, Morgan's riflemen were ordered to lead the van
towards Quebec. That same afternoon, therefore, Singleton found himself
nearly on the same spot which he had occupied in the early morning.

III.

THE UNREMEMBERED BRAVE.

The snow-storm continued in unabated violence. The low lines of the sky
seemed to lie upon the earth, the sounds of nature were deadened to
mystical murmurs, the long streams of flakes lay like a white curtain
drawn aslant across the face of heaven, and universal silence pervaded
the land. Everybody was within doors, where the exterior calm had
penetrated, and where the families nestled around the hearth as if
conscious of the visible protection of God. It seemed like a desecration
that this holy silence should be disturbed by the iron tread of armed
men, and that the peace sent down from above with every grain of snow
should be violated by designs of vengeance and the thirst of human
blood. Unseen through the storm, the riflemen of Virginia advanced
towards the grey walls of the devoted town. Unheard through the tempest,
the ga