sed by the sweep of the
river, and the walls of the town crowning the Heights, kept us in
touch with the struggle going on between us and the English, who
still held the St. Lawrence, with its opposite shore.

The convent itself was a pile of grey stone buildings forming a
quadrangle with wings, begun by the Recollect fathers nearly a
century before. It was in two of their curious little cells that
Mme. de Sarennes, Angelique, and I were lodged. The chapel opened
out of the square entry--it scarce could be dignified as a hall--on
which the principal doorway gave, and to the right of this was the
long, low-ceilinged room, lighted by many-paned windows down one
side, which now served as a common meeting-place for the nuns of
the three congregations and their numerous guests.

Here all who were willing and able to work placed themselves under
the direction of the Superior, for the nuns had more than they
could well attend to, with the invalids of the Hotel-Dieu added to
their own, as well as the wounded, who now began to come in.

On the last day of July we heard heavy firing towards Montmorenci,
beginning about mid-day, and towards five o'clock it increased to
a continuous dull roar. It was dark before the first messenger
reached us, and our hearts were lifted by the tidings he bore. It
was victory, perhaps complete and final; the English had left
hundreds of dead behind them, and our loss was nothing.

Scarce an hour after this the wounded began to arrive, and being
but a novice to such sights, I was glad when the Superior, noticing
my pale face, called Angelique to bid us go out into the court-yard
and get a breath of fresh air. It was a welcome relief to us both,
and we were walking up and down, eagerly discussing the news, when
an officer rode in at the gate, supporting a wounded man before him.

"It is M. de Maxwell!" cried Angelique, joyfully, and my impulse
was to turn and fly, but he had already recognised Angelique, and
called to her without ceremony:

"Mademoiselle de Sarennes, will you and your companion support this
lad into the Hospital? He is not seriously wounded, only weak from
the loss of blood," and as though counting on our help without
question, he let the boy slip tenderly to the ground, and I was
forced to step forward with Angelique to his support.

Bending down from his horse, he held the boy as he directed us how
to aid him, and then whispered encouragingly: "Keep up, my lad;
you are amon