Those who caught sight of him saw a man worth seeing--tall, deep-
chested, and erect. His Norman features, without being perfect,
were handsome and manly. Steel-blue eyes, solidly set under a broad
forehead, looked out searchingly yet kindly, while his well-formed
chin and firm lips gave an air of resolution to his whole look that
accorded perfectly with the brave, loyal character of Colonel
Philibert. He wore the royal uniform. His auburn hair he wore tied
with a black ribbon. His good taste discarded perukes and powder,
although very much in fashion in those days.
It was long since he had travelled on the highway of Charlebourg,
and he thoroughly enjoyed the beauty of the road he traversed. But
behind him, as he knew, lay a magnificent spectacle, the sight of
the great promontory of Quebec, crowned with its glorious
fortifications and replete with the proudest memories of North
America. More than once the young soldier turned his steed, and
halted a moment or two to survey the scene with enthusiastic
admiration. It was his native city, and the thought that it was
threatened by the national enemy roused, like an insult offered to
the mother that bore him.
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