he said, mature his plans that day, if
he had more money. I gave him secretly a small bag of gold, and then I
made explicit note of what I required of him: that he should tie up in
a loose but safe bundle a sheet, a woman's skirt, some river grasses
and reeds, some phosphorus, a pistol and a knife, and some saltpetre and
other chemicals. That evening, about nine o'clock, which was the hour
the guard changed, he was to tie this bundle to a string which I let
down from my window, and I would draw it up. Then, the night following,
the others must steal away to that place near Sillery--the west side of
the town was always ill guarded--and wait there with a boat. He should
see me at a certain point on the ramparts, and, well armed, we also
would make our way to Sillery, and from the spot called the Anse du
Foulon drift down the river in the dead of night.

He promised to do all as I wished.

The rest of the day I spent in my room fashioning strange toys out of
willow rods. I had got these rods from my guards, to make whistles for
their children, and they had carried away many of them. But now, with
pieces of a silk handkerchief tied to the whistle and filled with air,
I made a toy which, when squeezed, sent out a weird lament. Once when my
guard came in, I pressed one of these things in my pocket, and it gave
forth a sort of smothered cry, like a sick child. At this he started,
and looked round the room in trepidation; for, of all peoples, these
Canadian Frenchmen are the most superstitious, and may be worked on
without limit. The cry had seemed to come from a distance. I looked
around, also, and appeared serious, and he asked me if I had heard the
thing before.

"Once or twice," said I.

"Then you are a dead man," said he; "'tis a warning, that!"

"Maybe it is not I, but one of you," I answered. Then, with a sort of
hush, "Is't like the cry of La Jongleuse?" I added. (La Jongleuse is
their fabled witch, or spirit, of disaster.)

He nodded his head, crossed himself, mumbled a prayer, and turned to go,
but came back. "I'll fetch a crucifix," he said. "You are a heathen, and
you bring her here. She is the devil's dam."

He left with a scared face, and I laughed to myself quietly, for I saw
success ahead of me. True to his word, he brought a crucifix and put it
up--not where he wished, but, at my request, opposite the door, upon the
wall. He crossed himself before it, and was most devout.

It looked singular to see th