guests of the
Marquis de Vaudreuil assemble, the brilliance of their costumes is
heightened in effect by the gorgeous livery of the attendants and the
blue and white of the soldiers' regimentals. Groups around the
spindle-legged card tables exchange _bon-mots_ and play, while others
dance and promenade on the polished floors until the morning light
breaks over the river.

[Illustration]

The gaiety and frivolity, feasting and gossip are in strange contrast to
the grey gown of the Jesuit priest hurrying from the monastery opposite,
to shrive some sinner, or to administer "Extreme Unction" to some dying
saint. Within the convent walls pious sisters, followers of Mademoiselle
Mance and Madame d'Youville, tend the sick and unfortunate, whom the
tide of life has cast upon this far away shore. From the taverns on the
corners and on the river front comes the sound of mirth and merriment,
as with the cup of good Gascon wine are passed around tales of the high
seas or of times gone by in the old-world towns of Brittany.

On the altars of the chapels lights burn dimly in a silence unbroken,
save by the murmuring of prayers and telling of beads by suppliants
driven hither by sin, sorrow or homesickness.

[Illustration: RUE ST. AMABLE.

COPYRIGHT.]

A narrow little street, named St. Amable, running west from the
Governor's mansion, has been subjected to so little change since those
days of long ago that the passer-by on its two feet of sidewalk sees it
just as it was when its vaulted warehouses held the cargoes of the
weather-beaten sailing craft that anchored at the shore below. Where now
the French _habitant_ sits chattering with his _confreres_ and smoking
his pipe filled with home-grown _tabac_ were once the shady walks and
stiff parterres of the ancient garden. Here, under the summer moons,
were doubtless stolen meetings as sweet, vows as insincere, and
intrigues as foolish as those in the exquisite bowers of _Le Petit
Trianon_ at Versailles. On its paths have fallen the martial tread of
"de Levis, de Beaujeu, and many a brave soldier and dainty courtier,
official guests at the Governor's Chateau." Among them was one who
eclipsed all others in sad interest, the courtly young commander, Louis
Joseph Saint Veran de Montcalm. Any spot associated with this ill-fated
general is of immortal memory. After his skillful manoeuvering at the
battle of Carillon, his march to Montreal was a triumph. At the close of
this engagement