was like to make me sick, but I wanted away, and agreed. By this time they were beginning to carry the dead from the sheds and tents, and as the men with the stretchers came up they dumped their load into the trench. We straightened the corpses to make them lie close, shovelled some lime over them, and then a few inches of earth, when we were ready for another row. Then the trench was filled and smoothed over. I had put on my coat and was cleaning my shovel when one of the Frenchmen touched my arm and I followed him. We slipped into the bushes and went to the north side of the island, meeting nobody. At the foot of a steep bank we found a boat. We got in, and casting loose the tide, which was making, carried us up until we were a good bit from the island, when a sail was hoisted and we went at a great speed, for the tide had brought with it a stiff breeze. On landing I did not follow the men, for I had something to do I had on my mind. I stripped to the skin, and spread my clothes on the bushes. Going into the water I rubbed my handkerchief and shirt and washed myself as I have never done since. I scrubbed my skin with the sand and sniffed the water up my nose until, for the first time, since morning, I got the stink out of it. It was such a warm night, I was in no hurry to put on my clothes, and didn’t till I thought they were well aired. I may tell you, from the moment I buried my nephew, the fear of the fever came upon me, though I had never thought of it afore. Well, when I was ready for the road, I felt sick, but I knew it was with hunger, for I hadn’t broken bread since morning. Coming to a habitant’s house, the door of which was open, I went to it, but when they heard my tongue, they slammed the door in my face, taking me to be an escaped fever patient. Seeing it was no use, I walked as quickly as I could to Quebec, and made for the lodging-house I had left that morning. There was a light in it, though I knew it must be long past midnight. I went in and there were some sailors drinking and playing cards. The landlord lifted his eyebrows when he saw me, and signed me to follow into a back room. He lit a candle “Were you at the island?” “I was, and am right dead wid hunger.” He brought some victuals and I told him how I had got on. When I had cleaned the plates he showed me to a bed. I rose late next day all right, and left with the steamboat that afternoon for Montreal. The second day after I was home and thankful my wife was to see me. I held my whisht, and never a one but herself knew where I had been.