more than sixteen or seventeen years of age), seemed to me beautiful as a vision ! ethereally fair and pale, and delicately moulded! At one glance her image was stamped on my soul for ever. Sweet Marie Verche! never saw I aught of human birth thy equal! Never shalt thou be forgotten! Old age shall not rob me of the memory of thy loveliness! The last moment of my decaying years shall find thy name on my lips! and I know that when I step from the troubled sea of time upon the green and peaceful shores of eternity, thou wilt be the first to bid me welcome!

"I brought a priest, who was still in front of the convent, round to the garden, and delivered up, to him the young lady. Artillery was then pealing around— the air was charged with combustibles.

“I am old, and slow of foot," said the bewildered father to me, I am not able to help our pious sister to the Upper town, especially as she is lame. Here we must not stay; every moment threatens us with death. Chevalier, be pleased to support the maid to the monastery, where the sisters of St. Clare are already safely lodged. We must, alas! yield to urgent necessity.'

"A volley of fire from the river, more awful than any that had preceded it, because more immediately near to us, drove away every thought and feeling from the young nun's mind, excepting those only of extreme terror. I approached her as if she were a shrined saint, and, taking her up in my arms, bore her as fast as I was able up the very steep street which winds to the summit of Cape Diamond.

"Within the walls of the Upper town she was comparatively safe, but I did not leave her until I saw her

restored to her companions, who had only just discovered that she was missing. As I was bearing her into the monastery where the sisters were, she threw over my neck her rosary and cross, and whispered with the sweetest emphasis Chevalier, you have saved my life Marie Verche will not forget it. Tell me your name, that I may remember it in my orisons.'

666

My name is Lawrence, madam,' I replied, but I am better known as the Marquis of Rougemont.'

"She echoed the name, and repeated it twice, as if to fix it in her memory. As I was leaving her in the parlour, she whispered—

"Adieu, Marquis of Rougemont-I shall never forget you! I hope you will be preserved through this siege! I will pray for it!'

"I thank you,' said I; and believe me I shall never forget Marie Verche.

"Yes,' said she, smiling with the innocent pleasantry of a seraph, that is my name; you have quick ears, Marquis of Rougemont. Marie Verche I am named, and I hope you will think of me, whom you have preserved, sometimes.'

666

Always! I ejaculated, and hastened back to my commander and friend, de Bougainville, who had sent me to assist the nuns.

"I was quitting the jesuits' monastery, when I encountered a messenger of the Major-general, and every thought of Marie Verche was banished from my mind by a summons to the presence of de Montcalm.

Young Marquis,' said he, stepping from a circle of officers to speak to me, I am proud to distinguish you as one of the best soldiers of this successful day.

You will find yourself now appointed to a post even more important than that you lately held.'

"I bowed low, and left the presence with a heart nerved to the utmost by the flattering enconium I had received. . My dear mother!' I ejaculated, as I paced my room in the garrison, this will be joy indeed to you! I shall imitate my father's bravery and humanity as you told me yes, mother, I shall return to you, I hope and trust, with laurels of my own winning, to add to those which I have inherited.'

66

You, Nichoas, must not accuse me of a paltry vanity in thus dwelling on the praise I received from the great de Montcalm, many circumstances in which self-love has no part, make me love to dwell upon it.

66

My duty, I found, was now to watch the retreating enemy. I had to ride along the shore of the St. Lawrence with my men throughout the night. It was September; the night was more brilliant than any. I had ever seen; no daylight was ever brighter; the smallest leaf and pebble on the ground were as distinguishable as at mid-noon. Mine was then the poetry of existence. I was buoyant with youth, and health, and hope. The beauties of creation were then first unfolding themselves before my mind, and the witcheries of sentiment and feeling before my heart. The varied moonlit landscape through which I rode that night, seemed infinitely more charming than ever it has seemed since. A magical sweetness was resting on every object, but much of that sweetness was cast from my own young aspiring bosom. Glory!-the nun!-my mother!-my ancient and beloved home!-my father's sword! these were the principal topics which employed my exulting and wandering

thoughts. Early in the morning my small party were surrounded by a band of Indians in the British pay, whose yells, and war-whoops, burst horribly on our ears when we least expected them. Numbers overpowered us, and with sickness of heart I saw all my bright dreams of renown about to be suddenly terminated. Furiously I fought, until a blow from a tomahawk deprived me of sense.

"I recovered my consciousness slowly, and heard what I supposed to be angelic music, instead of the Indian war-cries and the clash of arms. Presently I distinguished, rather to my disappointment, the music of morning mass, and the voices of female choristers, singing as melodiously as a hundred nightingales. I opened my eyes and they met the deep blue orbs of Marie Verche.

.

"Ah!' she exclaimed, suddenly clasping her hands together, and bursting into tears, the Marquis lives again !'

"Maiden,' said a stern, harsh voice, which retained little of the feminine quality, although belonging, as 1 perceived, to the lady who had been at the head of the St. Clare convent, leave the room! I will speak to the Marquis myself; this display of feeling does not become you.'

"Such a rebuke I saw overcame the delicate girl; she hung her head, and looked ready to sink into the floor. The next instant she was gone; and, raising myself with difficulty on a mattrass, that was covered with my military cloak, I expected, with impatience, the explanation of the superior.

"I understand that you are le sieur Marquis of

Rougemont,' said she, addressing me with a repulsive formality, which at that moment was particularly odious. I assented. 'Give thanks to the saints for their mediation on your behalf,' continued she in the same cold, hard tone. You were brought hither by two soldiers, ignorant of your name and rank, who found you four miles from the citadel on a heap of slain. Perceiving you to be an officer, and finding that you still breathed, they requested permission to lodge you for the present in the church of this monastery. That permission was granted by the revered fathers here, who had vouchsafed to me and the nuns of St. Clare a temporary refuge.'

"Then I am in the monastery whither I brought the young lady who has just left the room?' said I. The reply was in the affirmative, and I learnt that I had been here an hour, that a monk had bound up the wounds in my head, and that Marie Verche had requested to see me, on hearing that it was supposed doubtful whether I should ever revive.

"While I was speaking with the superior, a terrible uproar resounded through the streets without. The affrighted nuns, disregarding my presence, rushed into the room-the music ceased abruptly. Through an open door I saw the brethren of the house running along the aisles, uplifting their hands and voices in terrified confusion. I sprang up, and, grasping the remnant of my father's sword, which hung broken by my side, rallied my mental and bodily powers, shaking off the dizziness which embarrassed them, waved my hand to the pale and trembling assembly, and hastened into the open air. But as I was crossing a narrow passage that intervened, Marie Verche threw herself before me; the