as she spied the old soldier, she rode up to him and greeted him in
the warmest language. A few words of conversation sufficed to reveal the
intention of her journey. She had taken advantage of the splendid
weather for a jaunt across the country and had chosen the direction of
Quebec in order to learn what was going on between the contending
armies. Batoche confined himself to a few words about her friends within
the town and excused himself from saying more by producing the letter of
Pauline. Zulma seized it eagerly, broke the seal and ran her eye over
the numerous sheets. She said nothing, but the expression of her
countenance was that of intense amusement, except towards the end of the
reading when it changed to a look of curious gravity.

"I shall read it more leisurely when I get home," she said to Batoche,
folding the missive and secreting it in her bosom, "and Pauline will be
sure to receive a long answer. For the present, please give her my
thanks and tell her that the things that she writes me are full of
interest. It is very kind of her thus to think of me. Tell her that she
is ever present to my mind. I am in no danger, but she is. I can roam
about at my pleasure, while she is restrained within the walls. Tell her
that I am prepared to do anything I can for her. Whatever she needs she
will have from me, and you will be our messenger, will you not,
Batoche?"

The old man signified his ready assent.

"If there is a necessity for it, I will go to Pauline even through the
barricades and barriers. Wherever you lead, Batoche, I will follow. Tell
her this, and now, adieu."

"Adieu?" said Batoche inquiringly.

"Yes, I will return home. I have had an agreeable ride. I might perhaps
have advanced a little further, but now that I have met you, and
received this precious letter, I am satisfied."

"It is not yet late in the forenoon," replied Batoche. "Mademoiselle
might tarry somewhat longer. I think she might render her journey still
more agreeable."

Through these simple words, Zulma was not slow to discern the meaning of
her old friend. Her cheek reddened and her eye got animated, spite of
the exertions she made to hide her emotions.

"Some of your old tricks of divination again," she said laughing. "Pray,
why should I tarry longer?"

Batoche met her ardent glance with a flash of intelligence. Pointing to
a little clump of wood, about a quarter of a mile to the right, he said:

"I gave him your note, madem