ard held out to me?

CHAPTER XXV

A FORLORN HOPE

Absorbed though I was in my work, I could not but mark what was
passing between Angelique and Archie--how unconsciously my
single-hearted brother was following her in that path in which the
feeblest maid can lead the strongest of his sex.

Her imagination had been fired by the romance of his finding me,
and the story of his early adventures found in her a skilful
listener, who could extract every detail from his somewhat unwilling
lips. His endeavours to catch her nimble wit as it flew, and the
expression of awakening wonder on his face when he suspected her
of nonsense, would many a time send us into peals of laughter.
Even Mme. de Sarennes was interested, though she frankly professed
nothing beyond an armed neutrality towards our hosts.

So the winter dragged on. There was much suffering among the people,
much anxiety and constant alarms for those in command; but each
heart loved or hoped, waited or wearied, as in time of peace, and
every one looked forward with impatience or anxiety towards the
coming of spring, which would bring the denouement.

By April everything was astir once more. The familiar intercourse
of the long winter was interrupted, officers and men went about
their duties so earnestly we could not but feel that all relations
were suspended until the result should be determined. Soon news
came of the movements of our army about Montreal and elsewhere,
and the English garrison was marched out for daily exercise and
duty on the plains, and as far as Ste. Foye.

At length it was clear that some movement was imminent. Orders
were issued that the inhabitants were to leave the city--that is,
all the common people--and word was sent to the Ursulines and the
other communities that they were free to leave, did they so choose,
otherwise they must remain through the siege, should the city be
invested, and must share the fortunes of the garrison. La mere de
la Nativite, our Superior, decided at once that her community should
remain, and Mme. de Sarennes said the same for our little party.

Angelique and I stood in la rue St. Jean, and our hearts were
stirred by the wailings and lamentations of the people leaving the
town in long procession.

"Courage!" cried Angelique, to a despairing woman. "We will welcome
you all back again. You will come in with our army!"

"Malbrook s'en va-t-en guerre
Ne sait quand reviendra,"

trolled out a lusty f