upon five soldiers, two of whom drew
their pistols, fired, and missed. Their comrades ran away howling. They
barred my path, and now I fired, too, and brought one down; then came a
shot from behind them, and another fell. The last one took to his heels,
and a moment later I had my hand in that of Mr. Stevens. It was he who
had fired the opportune shot that rid me of one foe. We came quickly
along the river brink, and, skirting the citadel, got clear of it
without discovery, though we could see soldiers hurrying past, roused by
the firing at the chateau.

In about half an hour of steady running, with a few bad stumbles and
falls, we reached the old windmill above the Anse du Foulon at Sillery,
and came plump upon our waiting comrades. I had stripped myself of my
disguise, and rubbed the phosphorus from my person as we came along, but
enough remained to make me an uncanny figure. It had been kept secret
from these people that I was to go with them, and they sullenly kept
their muskets raised and cocked; but when Mr. Stevens told them who
I was, they were agreeably surprised. I at once took command of the
enterprise, saying firmly at the same time that I would shoot the first
man who disobeyed my orders. I was sure that I could bring them to
safety, but my will must be law. They took my terms like men, and swore
to stand by me.

XXII. THE LORD OF KAMARSKA

We were five altogether--Mr. Stevens, Clark, the two Boston soldiers,
and myself; and presently we came down the steep passage in the cliff to
where our craft lay, secured by my dear wife--a birch canoe, well laden
with necessaries. Our craft was none too large for our party, but she
must do; and safely in, we pushed out upon the current, which was in
our favour, for the tide was going out. My object was to cross the river
softly, skirt the Levis shore, pass the Isle of Orleans, and so steal
down the river. There was excitement in the town, as we could tell from
the lights flashing along the shore, and boats soon began to patrol the
banks, going swiftly up and down, and extending a line round to the St.
Charles River towards Beauport.

It was well for us the night was dark, else we had run that gantlet.
But we were lucky enough, by hard paddling, to get past the town on
the Levis side. Never were better boatmen. The paddles dropped with
agreeable precision, and no boatswain's rattan was needed to keep my
fellows to their task. I, whose sight was long trained