ith our fears we descended to wait uneasily for
tidings.

I grew so anxious and depressed in the half-lighted halls that I
could not remain below, and returned towards our room. But just as
I approached the door some one came hurriedly along the corridor,
and to my dismay I recognised M. de Sarennes.

"Stay one moment, mademoiselle; I must speak with you." His voice
was trembling, and even in the struggling light I could see his
dark face was drawn and haggard, though his black eyes burned with
a fiercer light than before.

"It is useless, M. de Sarennes; I can hear nothing you have to say.
Remember your mother and sister are here within call, and you will
only cause them pain if you force me to summon aid, which I will
certainly do. Have some pity for them if you have none for me."

"Answer me but one question. Do you love this Maxwell?"

"M. de Sarennes, I will tell you nothing. You have no right to
question me."

"My God, Marguerite! have I not done everything for you?"

"You have done me every injury in your power. You have never spoken
to me that you have not tortured me so I cannot look on you without
fear and loathing."

At my words he stepped close to me, but before either could utter
a sound, a shrill cry came from above:

"O mon Dieu! mon Dieu! The English are on the Heights."

Doors were thrown open, and in an instant the corridors were filled
with white faces, and hurrying feet were flying towards the stairways.

"Nonsense!" cried a reassuring voice when we gained the upper
windows. "Those are our troops! See, they are crossing the bridge!"

"No. Here! Here! See! Just opposite us, over the edge of the hill."
And as we crowded to the side whence the cry came our hearts sank
as we saw a little patch of red against the morning sky.

"Bah! They are only a handful. See how our men are crossing the
St. Charles! There! They are coming out of the St. John's Gate
now!"

"Mes soeurs, we will descend to the chapel," said the calm voice
of la mere de Ste. Claude, and at her words the obedient nuns
recovered their usual air of quiet and flocked after her, as did
many of the others; but Angelique and I remained.

We could plainly see our troops defiling out of the town in a
seemingly unending line, and could distinguish their officers riding
to and fro giving orders; but the little point of red remained
immovable, and we could not tell whether it was an army or a single
detachment.

Regulars, Canadia