An hour passed, during which Zulma knelt immoveable, absorbed in prayer, and most of the other persons in the church followed her example by visiting the confessional in turns. At the end of that time, the priest, assuring himself that there were no further ministrations to be made, rose from his seat, opened the little door that held him in, and walked forward into the aisle. As he passed Zulma, he tapped her gently upon the shoulder as a sign that she should follow him. She did so at once, and the two glided noiselessly into the vestry. There the priest, after divesting himself of his surplice, turned towards the girl, and in the gentlest manner inquired after her health and that of her father. He then signified his pleasure at her punctual discharge of her devotions, in spite of the extremely inclement weather. "It is a great festival, but it will bring no joy this year," he said. Zulma, whose countenance still preserved its paleness and expression of extreme gravity, replied that the times were indeed melancholy, but that she nevertheless hoped to enjoy a quiet _Jour de l'An_ with her father and immediate neighbours, having made all the necessary preparations to that end. "You have not heard then, my daughter?" said the priest. "Heard what, sir?" "Of the terrible events which took place this night while we were sleeping." Zulma looked up with a movement of deep anxiety and asked: "What has happened sir?" "Two great battles have been fought." "Is it possible?" "Many killed, wounded, and prisoners." "Who, where, how?" gasped Zulma in agony. "Quebec was attacked in two places." "And captured?" demanded Zulma, unable to restrain herself. "No, my daughter. Both attacks were repulsed." Zulma clasped her hands to her forehead and would have sunk to the floor had she not been sustained by the good priest. "Courage, my dear," he said "Excuse me for telling you these things, but I saw from your deportment in the church that you knew nothing of them, and I thought it would be well that I should be the first to inform you." "Pardon my weakness, Monsieur Le Cure," was the meek reply. "I had indeed expected this, but the news is terribly sudden all the same. I entreat you to give me all the particulars which you know. I feel stronger now and can hear anything." "I know little that is definite. In the general excitement, all sorts of rumours are aggravated when they reach us at this distance. But I am assured that General Montgomery has been killed and Colonel Arnold wounded. I knew these gentlemen. They dined several times at my table. They were fine men and I liked them well. I am distressed to hear of their misfortune." "Have you heard of the fate of any other officers?" "Of none by name, except that it was a certain Morgan who replaced Arnold and surrendered his army." "Morgan?" exclaimed Zulma, and this time she was so overcome that she fell exhausted in a chair.