bbed. "I knew he would come."

"Yes," replied Zulma. "Blanche told us, when we feared evil had befallen
you, that you would surely come. She is a dear girl, and a prophetess
like her grandfather."

A moment later Zulma had aroused Sieur Sarpy, and after a few
preliminary words of welcome, Batoche was installed in a chair before
the fire, with Blanche upon his knees, and asked to recount his story in
its minutest details. Zulma had not dared to put him the single
predominant question which was present in her mind, partially trusting,
as we have seen, to the serenity of the old man's countenance, but he,
with his usual keen insight, answered it before entering upon the
course of his narration.

"It is all wrong and yet all right," he said with a swift wave of his
arm.

Zulma looked at him imploringly.

"We have been beaten," continued Batoche. "The Wolves have triumphed.
Many of our bravest officers were killed, but Captain Singleton was only
wounded."

"Wounded again!" exclaimed Zulma.

"But not very seriously. He fell, but I raised him from the snow and he
was able to stand alone, and walk."

"Did he escape?"

"He could not. I tried to induce him to follow me. He ordered me to fly,
but he declared that he must remain with his command."

"What then?"

"He was taken prisoner, but, be easy. He is in good hands."

"In good hands?"

"Yes. I saw Roderick Hardinge directly in front, and I am sure that he
recognized him."

"Heaven be praised for that."

"He is now within the walls of Quebec, but he will be well cared for."

Batoche then took up the account from the beginning and detailed all its
circumstances, both from what he had witnessed himself and from what he
had afterwards heard at headquarters. The report was graphic and lucid,
such as might be expected from so intelligent a soldier. It was midnight
before he had closed the history, and his companions listened to it with
the most absorbed attention.

"And now about yourself," said Sieur Sarpy. "How did you manage to
escape?"

Both Batoche and little Blanche smiled, the child nestling more closely
and lovingly in his arms.

"Have I not always told you that the Wolves could not capture me? At
least they will never take me alive. Although I and my men had enlisted
only as scouts, when the final attack on the town was determined upon, I
resolved to be present. I wished to be associated in that great revenge
if it was successful, and, if unsuccess