When M. Belmont stepped forward with Batoche, he at once addressed himself to Cary Singleton, asking his advice on the subject of the conference just held in the alcove. The young officer, after blushing and faltering at the suddenness of the appeal, replied in a manly fashion that, although he was an apostle of liberty with pistol and sabre, and entirely devoted to the cause, even to the shedding of his heart's blood, he could not presume upon giving advice to such a man as M. Belmont. He was too young, for one thing, and, for another, he was not sufficiently acquainted with the circumstances of the case. He added, glancing with ardour at the two fair girls beside him, that they would be better able to determine the question, Mademoiselle Belmont taking counsel of her father's welfare, and Mademoiselle Sarpy speaking for the benefit of her dearest friend. Thus appealed to, Zulma declared promptly that she had no opinion on the advisability of M. Belmont remaining out of the town, but that if he resolved upon doing so, she offered him, in the name of her father and in her own, a welcome home in the Sarpy mansion. In fact, she insisted that she would allow her to live nowhere else. Cary smiled and thanked Zulma with an approving nod. Pauline had not a word to utter, but her answer was only too painfully significant when she buried her face in her hands and gave way to a tempest of grief. Perplexity was painted on every countenance. Batoche alone retained his equanimity, and calmly, but with a tone almost of authority, he said: "M. Belmont, it is near midnight. There is a long road to travel. A decision must at once be made. What do you say?" M. Belmont still hesitated. "Then, Pauline will decide. Come, my dear, shall we go or stay?" Pauline immediately rose, and with a look of pathetic imploring, murmured: "Oh, father, let us go." M. Belmont instantly complied. As Batoche signified his intention of going along, in order to see them safe within the walls, Zulma earnestly demanded permission to accompany him. M. Belmont, Pauline, and Cary tried their best to dissuade her, but the old soldier silenced their objections by at once according his consent. The wounded officer having received the last attention for the night, the party took their departure. They reached Quebec without incident, and Batoche readily found an opening for them into the town from a ravine in the valley of the St. Charles. Zulma and Pauline embraced each other fervidly. "Before we separate, I have a dreadful secret to tell you," said Pauline. "What is it, my dear?" "Do you know who pointed the gun that wounded the Captain?" "I do not." "Can't you guess?" "No." "It was Roderick Hardinge." The eyes of the two friends exchanged sparks of fire. On the return journey, Zulma inquired of Batoche:-- "Do you know who fired the fatal gun against you from the walls?" "I do." "Does Captain Singleton know it?" "He does not." "Why did you not tell him?"