gious intolerance towards the French
Canadians, had assumed the control. From him little or nothing was
expected with the present army. Reinforcements, although often promised
and ostentatiously announced to the garrison through deserters and
prisoners, were altogether out of the question, while it was known that,
now the St Lawrence was clear of ice, a fleet of British vessels might
soon be expected for the relief of Quebec. In a fortnight at furthest,
Cary foresaw that a crisis must come. All this he confided to Zulma,
knowing well that he was violating no duty in entrusting her with the
information. The girl was astounded with the intelligence. It broke all
her dreams. Her confidence in the success of the Continental arms had
been unlimited. Notwithstanding their terrible reverses she never
allowed herself for one moment to doubt that the champions of liberty
would capture the last stronghold of British tyranny, and restore the
old reign of French domination in America. She even tried to argue her
companion into a reversal of his judgment, but failing in this, her
instinct brought her face to face with the further personal result which
Cary had altogether eluded.

The retreat of the Americans then took a more serious aspect. It implied
mutual separation. It came to this--that, after six months of the
closest intercourse, hallowed and purified by a series of the most cruel
vicissitudes, Cary should be sent flying back to whence he came, while
she would be driven again to the solitude of Pointe-aux-Trembles. Could
this be? Should Cary be thus left to his fate? Would she be able to
endure this sudden and enforced loneliness?

Singleton was outspoken and diffuse in his expressions of regret. He
repeated over and over again that his failure as a soldier wounded his
pride and disappointed his hopes, but that his separation from Zulma
would prove the most terrible of pangs. Had he foreseen this, he should
have sought death at the Intendant's Palace or at Sault-au-Matelot.
Death in the house of M. Belmont would have been a relief and a
benediction.

It was in vain that Zulma attempted to comfort him. Her heart was not in
it, and she could, therefore, not go beyond the range of commonplaces.
Finally, a deep silence fell upon both. They doubtless felt that they
ought to go one step further and face a dread corollary. But they did
not. Perhaps they durst not. Why not? Time will tell.

The conference ended in these words: