"
Poor girl! she did not foresee a day when the women of New France
would undergo trials compared with which the sword stroke that kills
the strong man is as the touch of mercy,--when the batteries of
Wolfe would for sixty-five days shower shot and shell upon Quebec,
and the South shore for a hundred miles together be blazing with the
fires of devastation. Such things were mercifully withheld from
their foresight, and the light-hearted girls went the round of the
works as gaily as they would have tripped in a ballroom.
The Chevalier des Meloises, passing through the Porte du Palais, was
hailed by two or three young officers of the Regiment of Bearn, who
invited him into the Guard House to take a glass of wine before
descending the steep hill. The Chevalier stopped willingly, and
entered the well-furnished quarters of the officers of the guard,
where a cool flask of Burgundy presently restored him to good humor
with himself, and consequently with the world.
"What is up to-day at the Palace?" asked Captain Monredin, a
vivacious Navarrois.
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