She pressed her to her bosom, kissed her
fondly, and without a word, left her to find in music relief from
her high-wrought feelings. Her voice rose in sweeter and loftier
harmonies to the pealing of the organ as she sang to the end the
joyful yet solemn psalm, in a version made for Queen Mary of France
and Scotland when life was good, hope all brightness, and dark days
as if they would never come.
CHAPTER XII.
THE CASTLE OF ST. LOUIS.
The Count de la Galissoniere, with a number of officers of rank in
full uniform, was slowly pacing up and down the long gallery that
fronted the Castle of St. Louis, waiting for the Council of War to
open; for although the hour had struck, the Intendant, and many
other high officials of the Colony, had not yet arrived from
Beaumanoir.
The Castle of St. Louis, a massive structure of stone, with square
flanking towers, rose loftily from the brink of the precipice,
overlooking the narrow, tortuous streets of the lower town. The
steeple of the old Church of Notre Dame des Victoires, with its
gilded vane, lay far beneath the feet of the observer as he leaned
over the balustrade of iron that guarded the gallery of the Chateau.
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