"Ah," he continued, reaching out his hand and drawing out the paper. "I see, drawing-soldiers, eh?" Phil nodded. "Vairy fonnee soldiers, my boy. I should not know but for this sword. And is this a gun?" Phil nodded again. "Ah," said the old French-Canadian, "it is a pity you think so much of soldiers. You should learn your lesson." "I'm going to be a soldier--some day," said Phil. "Ah, yes, some day. Like my dear old friend, your father," said the Doctor, with a sigh. "Yes," cried the boy, eagerly. "Is he coming to see me, Dr Martin?" "Why do you ask? Are you not happy here?" "Not very," said the boy, sadly. "Ah, I am sorry. What is the reason? There, speak out." The boy hesitated for a few moments, and then burst out with, "It's because of the Latin, and what Pierre said." "Ah, the Latin is hard, my child; but if you work hard it will grow easy. But tell me; what does Pierre say?" "He says the French are going to fight the English and drive them out of the country, and my father is sure to be killed." "Pierre is a bad, cruel boy to speak to you like that. He deserves the stick." "Then there is not going to be any fighting, Dr Martin?" The old man shook his head. "I am afraid," he said, sadly. "Perhaps you ought to know, my child. The English troops are advancing against the city yonder, and I am very anxious. I am hoping every day to obtain some news from your father--a letter or a message, to tell me what to do. It is unfortunate that we should be staying here among my people and war to begin." "Then there is going to be fighting?" cried the boy. "I fear so, my boy." "Then I know." "You know what, Phil?" "My father will come and fetch me." The old man shook his head. "He is with his regiment, my child, and could not come away." The old man stopped short, for the door was suddenly thrown open, and a big, heavy-looking boy of seventeen or eighteen came hurriedly in. "Some one wants you, Uncle Martin," he cried. "Yes, quite right," came in a sharp, short, military tone. "That will do, my young friend. Thanks." The speaker, a tall bronzed personage in plain clothes, strode into the room, held the door open, and signed to the big lad to pass out, which he did slowly and unwillingly, but not before he had heard Phil utter the one word, "Father!" as he sprang forward to fling his arms round the visitor's waist. "My boy!" was the response. Then to the Doctor, "That's unlucky! But that boy does not understand English?" The Doctor shook his head. "I am afraid he does, quite well enough to grasp who you are." "Tut! tut! tut!" ejaculated the visitor. "But tell me; are there any troops near here?" "Many, a few miles away," said the Doctor. "But he is not likely to go and tell them that there is an Englishman here?" "I hope not. Oh, no; I will see that he does not. Then there is risk in your coming here, my friend?" "I'm afraid so; but I was obliged to come, Martin."